


Under a Phantom Divine

by a_dangerous_sociopath



Series: Storm Warning [7]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Child Abuse, F/M, Fuck Or Die, Human Trafficking, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Character Death, Stalking, Temporary Character Death, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2020-06-24 14:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 50,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19725247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_dangerous_sociopath/pseuds/a_dangerous_sociopath
Summary: Both of them understood they were walking into a trap.Virgil understood that he could well be the only person who could deal with this threat.Mark just didn't want his friend to get hurt, alone in the woods.It wouldn't be a terrible surprise that they bit off more than they could reasonably handle. The only thing they can do now is try to survive until help arrives. But, when exactly is that coming?





	1. Love is a Loaded Gun

**Author's Note:**

> Man this series has been a wild ride. Now it's time for the vampire themed story arc because I'm currently checking off a list of fanfiction tropes and working my way through them, as is my custom for every rarepair couple I write. (My OTPs are not even couples. You could Meme this shit. Literally no one else:- Me: 10,000,000 words about how Markiplier should be fucking these particular dudes.)
> 
> So this one takes place around three and a half years or so after [Hurricane Year](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18118814/chapters/42834728). You could go read that fic, which is linked to this one in my Storm Warning collection, or if you're uninterested, I totally understand and it's seriously not required. I don't see myself referencing it all that much in this. If you just want the TL;DR I'll briefly spoil it for you in the bottom notes. All the rest of you, you've been warned.
> 
> Also goddamn, these tags. But I mean. It IS a vampire story, this is the kind of shit you get when you read a vampire story. I'm assuming vampires is a warning tag for a reason, you know.

“Daddy.”

Mark blinked like he’d dozed off. He hadn’t been sleeping, he didn’t think he actually could sleep bolt upright while behind the wheel of the car. It’s a good thing he hadn’t been driving at the time, though. He knew he was awake, he’d just kind of blurred out the world for a bit. Which didn’t make any sense at all. He wasn’t the kind to zone out like that, especially with his daughter in the car. He shook it off quickly though, because his daughter needed him. 

“Yeah, Jenn?” He asked, turning slightly in his seat to look at her.

It dawned on him that his and Milo’s kid had grown quite a bit in the last three years. Despite seeming to have a lot of hair when she was born, she’d only recently been able to grow enough of a length to gather it into a ponytail. Her eyes had darkened from that grey color when she was born into the greenish color that reflected in Milo’s eyes. She was still pretty underweight for her age, despite Mark worrying over her and feeding her every chance he got. The pediatrician didn’t seem to be too concerned about it, though, telling him she was probably always going to be on the petite side. She loved Disney princesses and Mark had since committed every one of their songs to memory against his will. He noticed as he turned to look at her, that she’d pulled her hair out of the ponytail and tossed the bow he’d carefully cinched above it onto the floor of the car. Which was great. Just great. It wasn’t like he was all that great at working with a girl’s hair, but he’d been learning. She just didn’t seem to appreciate his efforts, like most three year olds.

She pointed out the car window, because she was still at the age where she would prefer to point at things rather than ask for them. Yeah, Mark could see the other man waiting patiently outside of the van, slightly bent over and waving. But Mark didn’t want her pointing at things forever, he wanted her to ask for them.

“Use your words.” he told her. 

She gave him a look that bordered on frustrated. He returned a similar look.

She finally gave in and pointed out the window again. “Uncle Bird.”

“Virg.” Mark corrected her, as he moved to turn the car off. “You’re getting close, though. Keep at it.” 

He climbed out of the car, moving around to unlock Jenn from her car seat and set her on the ground. He grabbed her Frozen backpack, (that she picked out, and he’d had absolutely no input about it because Milo was the one who took her shopping for school supplies, and he didn't have the trauma that Mark had of listening to "Let it Go" 72 times in a row one day,) and helped her to slide it over her shoulders. As Virgil moved around the car to join them, Mark crouched down low, so that he could be eye-level with the little girl. 

“You gonna be good for Uncle Virg today?” He asked, and she nodded softly. 

“She’s usually pretty well-behaved.” he said to Mark. “Still a little shy, though.”

“Which is incredible, because when Milo and I are around, she’s anything but.” He said, watching as Virgil stooped down to lift Jenn into his arms. “She’ll even sit in my lap during a livestream. Thousands of people watching, and she’s sitting there telling them stories.” Mark pointed out.

“I think the difference is that she can’t see them, so they’re not real yet.” Virgil explained, smiling at her as Jenn placed a tiny hand on his jacket, lightly gripping his collar.

“Well, either way.” Mark said, as he reached back in to grab his own backpack, with his laptop and whatever else he thought he might need to work. There was a little cafe across the street from Jenn’s preschool, (where Virgil worked, because Mark felt safer sending her to a school where someone could keep an eye on her) with free wifi. So everyday, Mark would come and park in the cafe’s lot, Virgil would walk over and pick Jenn up, walk with her back across the street, and Mark would sit in the cafe and work on whatever project he had going, while his daughter was in class. Then, a couple hours later, Virgil would escort her back to Mark, and Mark would bring her home. It was a great deal for him, because Mark wouldn’t have to fight the after school traffic, and generally, no one bothered him and Jenn.

“Milo back from his business trip, yet?” Virgil asked conversationally. It was early enough that they sometimes had a few minutes to shoot the shit. Virgil knew that Mark hated whenever Milo was away for very long. He’d never quite got over the neediness he felt for the other man.

“No, not for a while.” Mark replied, as he went to lock up the car. “We talked about it last night.” 

“And he said…?” Virgil asked, as he glanced back down to Jenn. The little girl wasn’t listening at all. She was lightly humming a tune of her own making, while furiously trying to detach a button from Vigil’s jacket. Which Mark really shouldn’t let her do, he was going to come home one day to all of the buttons from her various clothes ripped out and on the floor. But at the same time… she was really cute. He’d let her get away with murder if she asked him. 

“I don’t know.” Mark finally replied, back on topic. “Some shit about the university, they needed him to conduct some hydrogeological survey, and yada yada, it’ll be another week.” Mark shrugged it off like it didn’t bother him. But lately, it seemed like Milo was spending more and more time away. Like having a child had shocked something in him that made him think about how expensive children actually were, especially in California, especially while looking at various universities. But Mark knew damn well that they didn’t need the money. Neither of them were poorly off, and Mark was going nuts because he just needed Milo. Mark never felt safe being alone at the house, and he wished Milo could understand that. 

Virgil frowned a little. “You can always call me.” he offered. “I wouldn’t mind helping you keep an eye on things."

"Yeah, I know." Mark sighed. "I just miss my husband. You know? When he’s gone I feel like I don’t have a leg to stand on. Like, there’s no one here to back me when things go tits up." 

“I get it.” Virgil assured him. “And I don’t blame you, if I were in your position, I’d want his protection too.”

“There have just been too many kidnapping attempts you know?” Mark said, his eyes darting back and forth like just mentioning that fact would summon some angry supernatural entity. 

“I know.” Virgil had thwarted a couple of those attempts. He checked his watch. “See you in a couple hours?” he asked. 

Mark nodded, moving in to kiss Jenn’s cheek. She wasted no time in wiping it off onto her sleeve, because three years old or not, she was already a sassy little shit. He wanted to blame Milo, but in all likelihood, she was probably taking after him. “See you later, babe.” 

He kept an eye on the two of them as Virgil crossed the street with Jenn, then he turned around and went inside the coffee shop. Mark never saw himself as one of those hipsters who’d actually sit in a coffee shop and work on their “manuscript” while sipping on a latte, until he had a kid that he worried excessively over. He didn’t think that was him just being a paranoid new parent, considering all the kidnapping attempts on himself and on her just a few years earlier. It had calmed down a lot, but he didn’t trust anything anymore. Even ignoring all of that, Jenn was just tiny for her age. He had a preschooler who was still in toddler clothes, and it seemed like every bitchy helicopter mom had to make a comment about it. And Jenn wasn’t quite able to really understand what people were saying about her, but he could see how these early unwarranted comments were already making her self-conscious. So for this first year of her being in school, he didn’t think he could be blamed for wanting to be close by while she was in her first class. If something happened, whether supernatural or otherwise, he wanted to be there, especially while his husband was off doing whatever the fuck in San Diego. 

Inside the cafe, he ordered his small coffee, grabbed a sugar packet, went to his favorite table and got to work. It was actually kind of relaxing, having something to work on in a place like this, and he could kind of see why people would do it. He was getting used to seeing the regulars., even exchanged a hand wave with them every so often, when he wasn’t too involved in his work. 

Then the creepy guy walked in...

It was probably unfair to call him the creepy guy. He was probably a normal dude with an otherwise normal day job and a wicked caffeine addiction. He’d been coming in every other day, taking a seat in the corner opposite to Mark’s table. Sometimes he’d order something, then place it on the table and not drink it while he browsed through some book on his tablet. Other days he’d sit there and absently stir his beverage, still not drinking it, and kind of stare off into the distance. Sometimes he’d sit there and people watch. None of this actually came across as particularly strange to Mark. It was just the times when he’d happen to glance over and realize the man had been watching him that he began to feel bothered. For the most part, Mark just tried to ignore him. But there was something about the way the man had been watching him lately. Something about that man’s gaze was getting more intense. 

He hadn’t told Milo or Virgil (he hadn’t told anyone, yet,) but it was finally beginning to freak him out. 

The man took his usual table, set his drink in front of him (that Mark was beginning to realize would never be drunk,) and sat across from him. Again, Mark tried to ignore it. It was easy to do for a while, since he actually did have a lot to do. 

Jenn wasn’t spending a whole day at school just yet. It was a nearly four hour day, and Mark was about two hours into waiting on her. Everything seemed to be fine, even with the guy sitting beside him doing who knows what. Mark happened to glance out the window by his table and finally noticed something odd. It looked like a couple of cop cars were parked out in front of the school. Mark kind of narrowed his eyes at them, and tried to remember if Virgil had mentioned there being some kind of an event today. But as he watched, he got that weird feeling again, the one that said that he was being watched. When he turned back around, he realized that the creepy guy was trying to get his attention.

Mark slid his headphones off of his ears, looking to the other man curiously. The man was pointing at the floor. “You knocked over your drink.” he told Mark. 

Mark glanced down, looking at the puddle of coffee that was beginning to form at his feet. 

“Oh shit!” Mark cursed, grabbing a couple of paper napkins from the dispenser at the table and ducking down to try and mop it up.

As he was bent over trying to get it up, though, he felt the other man leaning over him. Mark stiffened for a moment, until the guy reached around him and began to help, picking up the cup and helping to dry the floor. For a brief moment, the man’s hand brushed against Mark’s. 

For a second, everything kind of blurred out, like it did while he was sitting in the van. That was odd, that this accidental touch could give him such a strong sense of deja vu. 

The next thing Mark knew he was sitting back at the table, across from the man. By all accounts, they had been having a pretty decent conversation too. Now, now it was more than just a sense of deja vu, and Mark couldn't remember any of it. 

That strange, blurred out sensation, like the one that Jenn had woken him up from earlier. He felt like he was missing something. But as he looked across the table to the other man, the conversation seemed to be over with. The man was checking his watch and rising from the table. "I do apologize Mark, but if I stay any longer, I'll be late for my shift."

Mark set his jaw for a moment, looking to the other man. "You're an anesthesiologist." He said, unsure where he'd pulled that piece of information from. 

The man gave him an amused look. "That's correct." He said to Mark. "But I'll be happy to pick up this conversation again tomorrow morning." 

"You like your twilight shifts." Mark continued, as he studied the other man. "Victor." He said the name he could barely recall.

He looked up to the other man, who nodded, and now his smile seemed... sharper. More poisonous. 

"You're looking a little pale, Mark." The man told him. "Perhaps if you're feeling ill, you could come with me. I could help get you looked at." The man offered, reaching out to touch Mark's arm. Mark suddenly ducked away, nearly knocking his chair over in his attempt to get away. The commotion that caused got the attention of every patron and employee at the cafe. 

That sharp smile disappeared, as Victor levelled him with a more disappointed, almost angry look. Like Mark had ruined his chance to do… something, to him, by calling the attention of everyone else in the cafe. 

"Nah, I'm good." Mark said after a moment. "I think you should go." Mark said, before blinking a little, glancing back down to the ring Milo had gifted him when he proposed. Black gold, with a ruby line running down the center. "You don't want to be late." 

If Victor was angry that Mark had somehow overcome his plans and essentially showed him the door, he gave no outward sign of it. The man gave him a sharp nod, before finding his way to the door. 

Mark waited a moment. Once he was sure the man had left the cafe completely, Mark pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent off a text to Virgil. 

_I hate to ask, but can you take Jenn home? I'll meet you there._

It wasn’t an unusual request. Virgil did occasionally take Jenn home when Mark had something else going on, or if he needed to be in his office to get work done. 

Eventually, Virgil sent him a reply. 

_Yeah, sure, I can stop by after the afternoon class. Something happen?_

Mark thought about whether or not he should tell him everything right then. But he knew Virgil was probably trying to sneak this in during one of his classes, so Mark decided right then wouldn’t be appropriate.

_I’ll tell you when you get there._

With that, Mark gathered up his things and left the cafe.

~~

The thing that was strange about it, was the feeling that today hadn't been the first attempt.

That would be the explanation for those moments where he was blurred out, he supposed. Where he was missing bits and pieces of time. He wondered how many of them he’d had, if maybe something would have happened if Jenn hadn’t woken him up. She was a preschooler, just looking for his attention like she normally did, but had that simple action saved him from whatever that man had planned? Three years old, and she was already taking care of him.

Once he made it home, he shot off a text to Cersa while he tried to get a hold of Milo. It took him a couple of tries, but eventually he finally got Milo to pick up the phone. 

“You turn your phone off or something?” Mark asked first, throwing out the customary usages of ‘hello’ or ‘hey honey’. He wouldn’t normally be so annoyed about that, and he knew that Milo would often turn his phone off to save the battery while he was working. But when he was in the middle of freaking out over what might have been an attempted kidnapping? It was just wildly inconvenient.

Milo seemed a little taken aback at that. “For a while.” He admitted. “What’s going on?” he asked. 

“I…” Mark began, stuttering a bit when he tried to tell him about what had happened that morning. “I need you to come home.” he said, moving to press his forehead into his hand. He kind of dipped down in his seat, shoulders sagging, and he knew he probably looked pitiful, but he badly, badly wanted Milo’s comfort and again, the man just _wasn’t there_. “Please.” he begged, tone low and stressed. 

“What’s going on?” Milo asked again, and to his credit, he sounded concerned. “Did something happen?” He asked. “Is Jenn okay?” 

“No it’s- yes, Jenn’s fine.” He figured he should start out with first and foremost. He didn’t want to scare the man with that unnecessarily. “Something happened while I was waiting for her to finish school.” Mark finally breathed out. 

Milo was quiet for a moment. Mark didn’t understand why at first. But when he spoke up again, it became very obvious. “Someone threatened you.” he said, and his tone was dark. Angry.

Mark tried to think of a way to explain what happened without further exciting him. “I mean. I don’t know.” He said, suddenly doubting himself. His brain just had a tendency to go to some primitive area when Milo got angry on his behalf, because as much as it was nice to have someone ready to do damage on his behalf, it was also a little intimidating. Because if he was overreacting and this turned out to be nothing, he didn’t want to send Milo on a rampage to hurt some innocent bystander who was just acting out of concern. Mark just didn’t have enough information on what was happening to him yet.

“You don’t know?” Milo asked, and his tone mellowed out a bit. 

“I don’t know. My brain’s been a little fuzzy lately. I’m missing out on little chunks of time. I think it’s happened before today, but I’m having a really hard time remembering it.” he said. He chewed his bottom lip for a moment. “Okay, that sounds dumb, of course I’d have a hard time remembering if I’m missing time…” 

“So… are you ill?” Milo asked, and now he seemed very confused. 

“I don’t think so.” Mark said, dropping his hand in his lap. “I’m not sure what’s going on with me.” he finally admitted. “I just know there’s this weird guy at the cafe across from Jenn’s school, and I don’t know if it’s me being an asshole, if it’s stress, or if the guy’s actually doing something that’s brain-warping me.” 

Milo was quiet for a moment, as he seemed to think things over. Mark wondered if the call had been dropped, and began to pull his phone away to check, when the man’s voice came back on over the line. “Okay.” Milo said. “I’ll see what I can do to finish up everything today.” He said. “And I’ll come home later tonight.” he said. 

Mark let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” he said quietly. 

“Just do me a favor?” He asked.

“Yeah?”

“Stay the fuck away from that cafe.” Milo told him firmly. 

“Well, obviously.” Mark said. “Virgil’s bringing Jenn home.”

Mark could almost here Milo grinding his teeth at that. “Well, that’s fine.” He finally said. Mark couldn’t help the smirk he felt at that. Even after all this time, the man was still jealous of Virgil, and he could tell. “You still thinking about taking her to her tumbling class tonight?” 

“Yeah, but she’s not really into it. She mostly just hangs out with her friend in the back of the class.” Mark told him.

“Don’t worry too much about it. She’s still too young to focus all that seriously. We’ll find something she likes.” Milo said, unconcerned. “I love you, and I’ll see you later.”

“Want me to wait up for you?” Mark asked. 

“Not if you’re having missing time episodes. I want you to get some sleep.” Milo said. “Just on the odd chance that that’s what this all is.” Milo told him. 

Mark shrugged a little, but he supposed that possibility would make sense too. “Alright, I love you too.” 

When Mark hung up he got a flurry of text messages from Cersa. He opened up the conversation.

_What is this nonsense you’re sending me._

_Are you trying to describe a spell?_

_Or are you telling me you’re dehydrated?_

_Just drink some fucking water, Mark._

Mark rolled his eyes at the response.

_I drink lots of water._

_I’m trying to figure out if these symptoms I’m having could be a spell._

Mark waited for a couple of minutes, before he got a reply.

_Could be, I suppose._

_Could also be Alice in Wonderland syndrome._

_I don’t know, why do you think it could be a spell?_

He chewed his bottom lip for a moment.

_I just had a really disconcerting encounter with a guy in a coffee shop. That’s all._

It took a couple more minutes before she responded. 

_Starbucks or Coffee Bean/Tea Leaf_

_Neither? What does that matter?_

_Trying to figure out the brand of hipster you’re dealing with to determine whether or not they’re dangerous._

Mark sighed. 

_Cersa._

_Okay, okay._

_I suppose the missing time thing could technically be a spell. Or an alien abduction, according to the History Channel._

_What did he specifically do?_

_He touched my hand, and the next thing I knew, I was sitting across from him while he went on about his life._

_I sort of remembered some of the details, like I was awake for this conversation._

_His name is Victor, and he’s an anesthesiologist._

_Huh. He touched your hand and the world went fuzzy?_

_And he knocks people out for a living?_

_Where’s Milo?_

Mark set his jaw. 

_San Diego_

_Fucking hell._

_Call Virgil._

_Have a sleepover._

_Do each other’s nails._

_And definitely, definitely find a new cafe to drink your overpriced coffee._

Mark snorted a little at that.

_So do you think it’s something I should be worried about?_

_Maybe. Maybe not._

_I haven’t felt anything from you through our connection, either. No signs of distress._

_Just to be on the safe side, though, don’t stay alone tonight._

Mark nodded a bit to himself.

_Thanks Cersa_

Mark set his phone to charge then, and decided to finish his work in his office until Virgil brought Jenn home.

~~

Mark somehow lost track of time again while he was sitting there in his office. Slumped over in his chair like he'd fallen asleep, but he knew he hadn't been sleeping. He had been woken by the sound of the front door slamming open so hard he could hear it crash into the wall despite the spring that was meant to prevent damage to the walls. That was Jenn. She always wanted to open the door and she always threw it open, everytime. He really needed to replace that old spring, but it was one of those things that just kept sliding further and further down his list of priorities, the way minor house repairs usually did when you had a young child that needed you more.

Mark wiped a hand over his face and stood, holding onto the chair for a good long moment while he got his bearings. His legs wobbled for a moment like he was on a boat, and it took him a minute to steady himself. He swore it was like he had been sleeping, but he knew better. He went through the process of shutting everything down, a little annoyed that the recording he had been working on couldn’t be used now, before he actually left his office. He walked down the stairs just in time to see his daughter rip off her backpack and sweater and drop them on the floor, with Virgil trailing behind her picking up after her as she went. Mark smirked as he met the other man at the bottom of the staircase. “Putting in overtime hours, I see.” 

“Yeah, it’s a little like I never left the school.” Virgil admitted. “I have a bit more of a system there, though.” He handed Mark the sweater and Mark took it to hang back up in the closet by the front door. “So, what happened?” Virgil asked.

“Ah. Well.” Mark tipped his head to the side, before glancing over his shoulder to Virgil. “You first. What were the cops doing at the school today?”

“Right, about that.” Virgil said, as he crossed his arms over his chest. “They were there for me. And as a bit of advice, you might want to keep Jenn home for the next couple of days.” 

“What?” Mark asked, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest as he looked to Virgil. “What the fuck. What did you do?” He asked.

“I didn’t do anything.” Virgil told him. He sighed, looking to Mark. “One of my students in the afternoon class went missing.” 

“What?” Mark demanded, startled. Just out of instinct he found himself looking around the corner to see where Jenn went. She was, naturally, laying down on the floor with Chica, on her stomach, with her head resting on the dog’s belly, while she told her about her day. Chica was incredibly patient with the little girl as she prattled on, gently nosing her from time to time as Jenn patted her legs and head. Seeing that she was okay, he focused back on Virgil.

“I guess she never made it home.” Virgil told him quietly, a level that they both hoped would keep Jenn from picking up on the conversation. “Which I know I saw her get on the bus, and I know I’m not the only one.” He said. “But that wasn’t really what they came to talk to me about.” 

“What did they want to talk about?” Mark asked. 

“They found a note, addressed to me.” He said, looking to Mark. “It was laying on the floor of the bus.”

Mark looked to him. “What did it say?” He asked.

Virgil shugged. “They wouldn’t actually let me see it. They said it was evidence.” he told Mark. “But apparently, it asked me to meet in a particular place in Griffith Park.” 

Mark studied him carefully, the way Virgil was standing, the look on his face. “You know who took the girl.” he was able to determine. 

Virgil nodded. “I’ve been working on this job. They have me looking into a group of vampires with connections to a local hospital.” he said. “They only suspected that they’d been stealing supplies, but the more I learn about them, it feels a lot worse than that.” he said. 

“What are you suspecting?” Mark asked. 

“It really feels like some kind of operation.” Virgil replied. “I connected them to a couple of missing persons cases here in the city. I think she might have been taken to warn me off.” 

“What are you going to do?” Mark asked him.

“I have to find her.” Virgil told him firmly. “The cops are looking, but they’re not on the right trail. They don’t know about vampires, and even if they did, I know they couldn’t take down a group of them.” 

“Can _you_?” Mark asked skeptically. “I seem to recall you sporting a massive injury from a group of vamps when we first met.” he gently reminded. 

“I’ve gotten better since then. Besides, I kind of have to. I’m like the only hunter operating in Los Angeles right now. It should be okay, though. I’ve been working with Damien.” he said. 

“Is he going with you, though?” Mark asked, concerned. “What happened to the other hunters?”

“He’s doing something for the Boss in Tijuana. As for the other hunters...” Virgil set his jaw, as he carefully raised his eyes up to lock with Mark’s. That expression gave him the answer before Mark could ask. 

“Okay.” Mark said. “I’ll go with you.” 

Virgil immediately shook his head. “Mark.” 

“No no.” Mark interrupted him jabbing his finger in Virgil’s direction, as he pulled out his phone with his other hand. “A bunch of vampires targeting children at the school that my daughter goes to? Not having it. Sorry.” he said, as he shot off a text message to the closest babysitter he could think of. She got back to him pretty quickly, always happy to spend time with Jenn. “I’m going with you.” 

Virgil gave him a half-exasperated look.. “The only reason I protest is because… I mean I’ve trained for this all of my life and I still have problems at times. You’ve never been on a hunt, right?” He asked. 

“No.” Mark said. “But I mean. I’ll just do what I always do and hide behind the wrath of my husband. What could go wrong?” Mark replied nonchalantly. 

Virgil gave him a dry look. “Yeah, you wait in the car.” He decided. 

“Fine. I just want to make sure you don’t fucking die alone in the woods because of this obvious trap.” Mark could deal with that. He had gotten a lot better at defending himself with knives due to Milo and Damien’s occasional lessons, but that didn’t mean that Mark necessarily wanted to fight vampires. “Walk with me while I get Jenn’s shit together.” he said, passing into the living room where Jenn was lazing about with Chica. 

“Daddy.” She called to him as he walked by.

“Hmm...mmm, honey?” He asked, as he headed towards the kitchen. 

“Get Skye’s sandwich too.” She told him. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t forget that.” Mark assured her. 

“Tumbling class?” Virgil asked, as he walked along with Mark. 

“Yeah.” Mark said. “Skye’s her friend. She’s mostly deaf, but her family was finally able to work it out with the insurance so that she could have a hearing aid. So she can hear now, but she still prefers to sign things.” Mark explained. “Jenn’s sort of beginning to learn from her.” 

“That’s really cute, actually.” Virgil replied. “And you make her sandwiches?” 

“Jenn gets hungry after her class, and if I don’t make a separate sandwich for Skye, Jenn splits her sandwich with her, and then I get to listen to Jenn whine the whole way home about how she’s still hungry.” Mark replied, as he began to track down the ingredients for the sandwiches.. “This way is just easier.”

Virgil snickered at that. “Well, you’re a good dad. Looking out for your kid, feeding her friends. And hey, while we’re at it.” Virgil said, looking to Mark a bit more seriously. “What happened to you? What made you leave the cafe?” he asked. 

“Ugh.” Mark replied, looking to Virgil. “I don’t know. It’s probably nothing.” He continued about his business, until he realized that Virgil wasn’t going to let him just let it go. The man crossed his arms over his chest and gave Mark a very knowing look. He sighed. “There was this guy. In the cafe. I’ve been seeing him in there off an on for a while. I’m not entirely sure for how long, because I think he might have…” Mark frowned a little. “I’ve been having these weird… not black outs. I don’t think I’m actually passing out. I just kind of zone out. The world gets fuzzy.” He tried to describe for Virgil. “And I thought that maybe it could have been a spell.” Mark explained. “Today when it happened at the cafe, that guy was there, and he…” Mark paused, his hands in the air above the counter as he froze, thinking over what had happened that morning. “He was so… in my personal space. Too close. That on it’s own was uncomfortable. Then he brushed his hand over mine and everything went fuzzy. And when I became aware again he was sitting at the table in front of me, talking to me like nothing weird had happened.” He raised his eyes upwards then, looking to Virgil. “It scared me. What… what do you think that was?” he asked.

Virgil looked decidedly uncomfortable at that. “Some vampires… the really old ones… some of them have their own powers. It’s usually something to lure in their victims… calm them before they get taken.” He said. 

“Seriously?” Mark asked. “Is that what you think happened?” He asked, placing a hand over his heart as it threatened to beat out of his chest hearing this particular theory.

“I mean, the way they’ve been swarming the school.” Virgil shrugged a little. “I wonder if they went after you first, but for whatever reason it wasn’t working out, and they ended up grabbing Hanna instead.” Virgil placed his hands on the counter, tapping against the tile with his index finger as he seemed to think this information over. 

“You think?” Mark asked Virgil. 

“It’s easier to take a child than an adult.” Virgil pointed out to him. “Hanna was very trusting, too.” He said. 

“Then why was he stalking me today?” Mark asked. “You said they took Hanna yesterday.” 

“I don’t know. Maybe he has a fascination with you.” Virgil said.

Mark made a face at that. “That’s just…. Gross.” He said, as he went to dig out the utensils he needed to work on these sandwiches. Having something to do, something to distract him with was nice because it took some of the focus on his nerves away. “And I’m taken. Like, come on, does he not see the ring?”

“He probably doesn’t care about that. That might even be a turn on.” Virgil told him, humming a little as his tone betrayed the fact that he was teasing Mark now, just a little. “Some guys see the ring and think of it as a challenge. By any chance, you having second thoughts about tagging along right now?” he asked. 

“None whatsoever.” Mark told him. “Not on your life. You think Jenn needs a babysitter? _You_ need a babysitter. Kid.” He said, almost spitting on that last word. He wiped his mouth off on his sleeve and sighed as he realized exactly where Jenn gets it.

Virgil snorted at that. “You’re brave.”

“That’s what they call me. I’m a big, brave… big brave…” Mark paused, hearing the crack of thunder reverberate through the house, causing the windows to shake.

Virgil glanced to him, at this point, not even remotely surprised when this sort of thing happened. “That the babysitter?” he asked. 

Mark nodded. “Yeah, that’s her alright.” he said, “Could you do me a favor and open the back door?” He asked, gesturing in the direction of it with a butter knife. Mark had friends out in California that were probably totally responsible and completely capable of handling a child. But with all of these vampires running around, being a problem? Yeah, he wanted someone with a sword and a grasp on the elements guarding his kid. 

A few minutes later Calypso walked in, swiping rainwater from her brow as she entered through the kitchen’s back door. At this point Mark had put Virgil to work, helping Jenn change into her tumbling outfit upstairs while Mark finished up the sandwiches, wrapping them in plastic and placing them into Jenn’s Frozen themed lunchbox. 

Calypso looked to him and smiled. “Look at you, being all domestic.” She noted as she wrung out her clothing onto the rug Mark kept by the backdoor. “It’s usually Kasmilos who does the cooking, I thought.” 

“Yeah, he’s not around, why do you think I’m making sandwiches?” Mark waved an arm over his little set up. “I’ve gotten better at cooking generally, though.” He said. 

When Calypso was no longer dripping water everywhere, she stepped further into the kitchen. “What kind of sandwiches?” She asked. 

“Strawberries and nutella on wheat.” Mark said.

“Healthy.” Calypso teased. 

“It’s just for a snack. I feed her a real dinner later on.” Mark said, as he closed up the lunchbox and set it up on the edge of the counter, so that she hopefully wouldn’t forget it. 

“So I should find her something to eat later?” Calypso asked.

“I mean, we have food, I just, for obvious reasons, haven’t gotten around to planning anything out.” Mark said. “I still have to get ready for this excursion. I’m not even sure what I need.”

“Definitely bring your weapon.” Calypso advised. “Maybe some water so you don’t dehydrate yourself, you’re probably going to be doing a lot of running, I assume.” She hummed a little, seeming to debate in her head what would be logical against her knowledge of vampires. “You have any leather?”

“Oh yeah, I’m definitely the kind of guy to strut about in ten pounds of dark leather. Add a little guyliner. Who do you think I am, Damien?” Mark replied

The woman snickered at that. She placed her hands on the counter, leaning against it with her hip. For a brief moment, Mark wished he had her legs so that for once he could have the height advantage, with all these literal deities he’d been hanging out with lately. He shook the thought off pretty quickly though, because well. It was weird. 

“I meant for like… protection. You know. Like bikers do.” Calypso said, shifting her weight to her other side. “Hunts are dangerous, so be careful.” She told him. “Remember that you have a daughter to come home to. Be polite, be professional, but have a plan to kill everyone you meet.”

  
“I swear I’ve heard that before.” Mark mumbled under his breath. “Jenn’s part of the reason I have to go. If these vampires are grabbing kids… I mean I always have someone I trust around, keeping an eye on Jenn. I do my best to keep her insulated, but if they’re going after her classmates, I don’t want that either.” he said. 

“So you’re grabbing the pitchfork and taking off after the bad guys?” Calypso asked, giving him a knowing look.. 

“If anything’s happened to that little girl, the pitchfork will be the least of what I’m going to do to those fuckers.” Mark told her seriously.

Calypso nodded, casting her eyes down briefly to the table, before looking back up to lock eyes with him. “You seem angry.” 

“I am.” Mark told her. “But I’m trying to keep it down because I don’t think Jenn even knows about her class-mate yet.”

“Ah.” Calypso said. “How is Jenn doing, anyways?” She finally asked, voice low, just in case the baby could walk in and overhear. 

Mark cleared his throat, not answering immediately. He supposed that made it very apparent that he was still harboring some guilt there. He had since the pregnancy. Which he could admit was silly, as he’d always been very careful to do whatever he could to help her stay healthy and happy. He just couldn’t help the feeling that he was falling short somewhere. Which was another reason he wished Milo would stay home more. If nothing else, the man was at least good about reassuring him over his self-doubts.

“She’s still bordering on underweight, she’s just tiny for her age.” He noted. “The pediatrician isn’t all that concerned yet, he just told me to keep an eye on it. And I don’t get it, either. I feel like she eats all the time. She doesn’t argue with me about food. She always seems willing to at least try stuff. She’s just small.” 

“Some kids are. It’s nothing to worry about.” Calypso assured him. 

Mark shrugged a little, but he didn’t respond. He hadn’t actually told her about his vision of Jenn in the future, how he ran into that little girl in Hell. He had thought she was in over her head then. He wanted to give her an advantage, just in case she really did have to go through that. It was why he’d enrolled her in the tumbling class. He was just hoping she’d like the physical activity, and she’d find something she liked doing to help make her stronger when she finally undertook that journey, if she had to.

“What about the fun stuff, though?” Calypso asked with a smile. “She feeling her mermaid oats, yet? Any sign of a tail, or maybe even a talent?” She asked. 

Mark rolled his eyes at that. “No.” he said. “Thankfully. She’s been entirely normal so far.” 

Calypso actually looked a little disappointed at that. “Late bloomer, maybe.” She said. 

“Don’t… say stuff like that.” Mark winced. “I don’t want her to think she has to start showing these things by a certain age, and then… I don’t know, those things are only a possibility, right?” he asked. “I don’t want her thinking there’s something wrong with her. It’s bad enough that she’s got people around her commenting about how little she is compared to everyone else her age. Doctors, teachers, other kids. I don’t want her to feel pressured over that too.” He said. 

Calypso’s face fell a little, making it was pretty obvious that she hadn’t thought of that before. “I’m sorry, Mark.” She told him. “I didn’t mean anything by it.” 

“It’s fine.” Mark shrugged a little, pushing away from the kitchen counter. 

She shot him a smile. “On the bright side.” She continued. “It’s honestly breath-taking, watching you come to her defense like that. You fight for your daughter. That’s sweet.” She told him. “You’re a good dad.” 

“Who else is going to if I don’t?” Mark asked, glancing down as Jenn took that opportunity to run into the room, screaming. She immediately attached herself to Mark’s leg, giggling, as she tried to use him as a human shield to protect her from Virgil as he followed her into the room. 

“Help, dad!” She cried. “The monster’s gonna get me.” She told him. 

Mark glanced over to Virgil who shook his head a little.

“Oh no. Hell no.” Mark said to Jenn, leaning to the side a little so that he could actually see her. “I am not fighting that monster, too scary. You’re on your own, kiddo.” He heard Calypso laugh hard at that, and considering what they were _just_ talking about, yeah, that probably completely nullified what he was saying.

“But dad!” She squealed a little, as Virgil came in closer. 

Mark raised an eyebrow at Virgil, gracing him with a sufficiently skeptical look. “What have you done to my daughter?” he demanded. 

“Nothing, she’s just really, really touch-sensitive to tickles, apparently.” Virgil smirked at him. 

“I couldn’t breathe!” Jenn said, tone accusatory, waving her arm kind of uselessly at Virgil. If she actually managed to connect that swing, that would probably so almost hurt. “Get back, monster.” 

Calypso snickered at the scene. “C’mere, little one, I’ll protect you.” She offered. “I won’t let either of these heathens tickle you to death.” 

Jenn, recognizing one of her aunties, (well, not auntie, but when you’re dealing with a little kid, auntie and uncle was easier to say than father’s distant cousin) immediately zipped around the island counter, making as wide an arch around Virgil as she could, and launched herself into Calypso’s arms. Calypso caught her, hauling her up and balancing the girl on her hip. She smiled as Jenn wrapped her arms around her neck. “See?” Calypso asked. “Perfectly safe.” 

Mark grinned a little. “Your auntie is taking you to tumbling class, okay?” he said. “Your uncle Virgil and I have something to do.” He explained to her. 

Jenn just nodded, but she didn’t seem to care all that much. Jenn knew her auntie well enough that she was totally comfortable with spending the night with the woman. 

Mark glanced back to Calypso. “So Milo will be here late tonight, if he gets home before I do, don’t tell him I went off hunting vampires.” He politely requested.

“Yeah, that is the sort of thing that would drive him up the wall.” Calypso nodded. “Your secret is safe with me.” 

Mark leaned in, pressing a hand against his daughter’s back as he moved in to kiss her cheek and she, predictably, reacted by swiping his lips off on her sleeve. He shook his head at her sass. “I’ll see you later, kiddo.” He promised.


	2. Don't Threaten Me with a Good Time

“Hey.”

“What?” Mark asked, glancing back over to where Virgil was sitting beside him. He wondered vaguely if he’d done that zone-out thing again. After a moment, he realized that had to have been it. Virgil was staring pretty intently into his eyes. He sat back after he seemed to find whatever he was looking for, settling into his seat. “Another black out.” He inferred.

Virgil nodded. “I didn’t notice until I asked you a question, and you just kind of never responded.” 

Mark stretched out a little, moving to scratch at his scalp. “Does that ever go away?” he asked. “It’s a little disconcerting.” 

“It should.” Virgil said. “I usually have to kill the vamp that’s influencing it, but if you keep away from that cafe, it makes things a little easier on me.” 

“That’s the plan.” Mark breathed out slowly. He tilted his head in Virgil’s direction. “What was the question?” He asked. 

“I was just wondering if you ever… the demon…?”

“Oh, him.” Mark chuckled a bit. “He tends to only rear his ugly head when he thinks Jenn needs me.” He said, shrugging.

“Oh. That’s… bizarre. Concerning, too.” Virgil stated the obvious.

“Damien keeps insisting that I shouldn’t worry about it.” Mark told him. So, maybe not so obvious. “But then again, I’m not so sure he can always be trusted.”

“He usually has an angle, that’s for certain.” Virgil admitted quietly, as he looked back over the area they’d parked in.

Mark had traipsed around the populated areas of Griffith Park. He’d visited the observatory. He’d walked up to the Hollywood sign, (and done some very questionable things while he was there.) But he’d never actually been to the old, rotting abandoned Griffith Park zoo. He’d actually been warned off from there, hearing that it was a place where criminals came to do shady things, and that it was generally unsafe. But since then, the city had made some effort (well, they half-assedly tried) to revamp the place into a picnic area. Meaning they had placed tables and benches in the old animal cages. Which he supposed was nice; he would have probably fixed the old, crumbling, mildly dangerous wooden staircase that led to them first, not to mention some of the older structures they were apparently encouraging people to explore, but what did he know?

Mark and Virgil were sitting in Virgil’s car, sort of waiting for the sun to go down, quietly chatting, and generally keeping an eye on the area. Virgil had a notebook that he would occasionally peer at, filled with information he’d taken down on this particular case. Mark was reading through a few articles on his phone. He checked his watch a couple of times, and glanced over to the other man.

“So basically.” Mark determined. “Vampire hunting is 98% waiting for the vampires to show up, 1% smack talking them, and 1% actually hunting them.” he said, looking to Virgil for his confirmation.

Virgil turned slightly in his direction, resting his wrist on the steering wheel as he did. “You know.” He said at length. “Most of the hunters I know take this time for quiet reflection. Concentrating on the job, planning various exit strategies…”

“It’s boring.” Mark decided, shifting a little in his seat. 

“Don’t you ever take a few minutes to, I don’t know, take in the peace and serenity of quiet moments?” Virgil asked. “Meditate, maybe? Read a book?” 

“I have a preschooler. I live my life on the run.” Mark pointed out to him. “You get them for four hours a day then go home and meditate or catch up with the book club or whatever. I have to figure out how to fit in work between chasing her around and doing the basic functions needed to ensure this child’s survival.” Mark teased him, while Virgil laughed at his feigned outrage. “Doesn’t exactly leave me with a lot of time for yoga or whatever new age thing you’re into.” 

“Yeah. Reading is totally new age.” Virgil teased back.

“Hey, shut up.” Mark returned, as he glanced back at his phone. 

“When I shut up,” Virgil pointed out, “you get bored.”

“You know what’s boring? This conversation.” Mark decided, closing his phone and slipping it into a pocket. “Tell me about the vampires instead. So I know a little about what we’re dealing with, here.” 

“What, you mean…” Virgil paused, processing Mark’s question. “Like what to expect?” he asked.

Mark nodded. “Yeah, what are the rules for vampires. Do they disintegrate in the sun? Can I stake them through the heart? Do they treat garlic like Kryptonite?” 

“They can walk in the sunlight.” Virgil said with a shrug. “A lot of those telegraphed weaknesses you see in horror movies are just old wive’s tales, you know? Because we as humans didn’t quite know how to deal with the threat for many hundreds of years. There was a lot of panic about what to do. How to deal with them. Some people would mistake methods that had no effect for the right thing to do, and pass that on to their children. Some of it hung around as legend. And every so often, an actual fact would get through.” he said. 

“So what are the facts, then, master hunter?” Mark asked.

“Well, like I said.” Virgil began to list off, accepting the title with casual flippancy. “They can walk in the sunlight, but their eyes are sensitive to it, so you’ll often see them wearing shades, or carrying an umbrella. You can try to ‘stake’ them through the heart, but most of them would probably survive it. The best way to kill a vampire is to remove the head, or failing that, to slit its throat.” he said, mimicking the motion with his index finger, drawing it from ear to ear. He tipped his head to the side. “They’re strong. They’re fast. The older ones especially.” he explained to Mark. “Actually, some of the older ones can be a little freaky to deal with.” 

“How so?” Mark asked curiously.

“Well, the younger vampires... the ones who were recently turned I mean, it doesn’t really have anything to do with their actual age. They tend to be more…” He paused. “Well the term that gets bandied about is feral. But that’s not quite right either. They just have a harder time controlling themselves. It’s kind of a shock, when you’ve been human and you’re suddenly turned. You suddenly have all these new, heightened senses. New awareness. New abilities. It overloads them. They have a tendency to latch onto the nearest human, and it usually kills them.” Virgil said. “Unless they have a vampire mentor looking out for them.”

“The creepy older ones.” Mark inferred.

“Yeah, the creepy ability they have is the ability to telepathically brainwash their victims. They use that to soothe their victims into submission. They tend to be quieter and more precise. It’s easier to know when a young vampire has been killing in an area, as opposed to an older vampire. Older vampires can make it look like an outbreak, like some illness has taken up residence in an area.” Virgil explained.

“That is a little freaky.” Mark admitted. “Is that what the black outs are? Victor trying to lull me into submission?” 

Virgil nodded in reply. 

“So this case… well, like I told you earlier, the guy that hired me said that he suspected a group of them stealing supplies from a local hospital. Which isn’t actually all that uncommon. Hospitals do store blood, anticoagulants, things that would make it easier for them to get by. They probably have a couple of insiders working there. They can steal supplies, sneak it out, and they’re either using it for themselves, or selling it to other vampires.” Virgil explained.

“And they noticed you sniffing around, huh?” Mark asked. 

“Yeah.” Virgil said. 

“So… do you have a plan for this meeting? How is this going to go down?” Mark asked.

“Ah, well.” Virgil shrugged. “I have a tendency to wing these things.” 

“Really?” Mark asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “That doesn’t seem smart.”

“Vampires don’t travel in large groups, usually, for obvious reasons. I can handle three or four vampires.” He said, looking to Mark. “I just need you to stay in the car and not make yourself a liability.”

“That’s never been my forte, but for you, Virgil? I’ll wait in the car. Maybe.” Mark replied, shrugging one shoulder and shooting him a pointed look. “Are you going to give me some kind of a sign if things go badly?”

“If things go really badly, just leave.” Virgil said insistently.

“Okay, I’m not going to just…” 

“Mark.” Virgil interrupted. “There’s a parking lot at the bottom of the hill. Park there and alert the authorities.” he said. “But don’t do anything stupid, like, try to come after me.” When Mark continued to look skeptical, Virgil offered him a smile. “Really, I know what I’m doing.” 

Mark sighed, pulling his phone back out. “Alright.” he finally agreed.

It was quiet for a while. Virgil returned to his notebook, and Mark settled himself by scrolling through his twitter feed. Then, there was a loud crack outside the car, that caused the both of them to jump and look up. 

As Virgil studied their surroundings he gently pulled himself up, squinting his eyes at something in the distance. He placed a hand on Mark’s arm, trying to draw his attention to what he was staring at. 

“The old animal cages.” Virgil whispered, finally pointing out what he was seeing. 

Mark directed his gaze over to what Virgil was showing him. Once Virgil pointed it out, he could kind of see it, sticking to the shadows inside one of the weird, angular faux cave openings. There was definitely someone there. 

“Now.” Mark said. “Are those vampires or a bunch of delinquents getting ready to tag the place?”

“I mean. There is one way to find out.” Virgil said, picking up the hand he had placed on Mark’s arm and moving to point at him. “Remember what I said.” 

Mark nodded. “I’m staying in the car.” He said. Then, he quietly, under his breath added. “Unless shit gets really bad.” 

“No.” Virgil said, shaking that finger at him again. “No, you’re supposed to stay in the car, and lock the doors, because it is safe in the car.” he said firmly “Just park at the bottom of the hill and dial 911.” 

“Right.” Mark replied. “Sit in the car and dial 911.” Mark said. “And if the opportunity arises, come in the clutch and save your ass.” 

“No.” Virgil told him firmly. 

Mark shot his friend a grin. He actually had no intention of disobeying the other man, but it was fun to tease him like he was gonna, because Virgil always gave him a reaction, like a disappointed mother. 

When Virgil slid out of the car, he left the keys into the ignition and locked the doors, leaving Mark in the air conditioned vehicle, with a means of escape if he needed it. As Mark watched, he slid over into the driver’s seat, placing his hands on the wheel.

At first, everything seemed like it was fine. Virgil approached the group, quickly getting their attention. He moved around the picnic tables and stepped into the dark part of the cave, the part that looked like some kind of weird, angular cave. That’s where Mark lost sight of him.

And… it went quiet. For a really, really long time. Eventually, what looked like a group of teens left the area, but Mark never saw Virgil come back out. He continued to wait. Worried, he cranked down the window a little, trying to hear for any kind of conversation, or a yell, maybe some kind of sign that Virgil wasn’t okay and needed help.

After a while, someone new emerged from the cave and it wasn’t Virgil. Mark wasn’t sure why but his first instinct was to duck down under the dash. In hindsight, that probably wasn’t the smartest move, because he figured, they’re vampires. Right? Shouldn’t they be able to see the guy in the car ducking his head down?

But as they approached the car, he could pick up pieces of conversation through the open window, and for all he could tell, it didn't seem like they knew he was in there...

"So what do they want us to do with it?" 

I don't know." One of the men replied. "But they said if we leave it here, it'll attract the law."

"So what? We take it out somewhere and ditch it on the side of the road? Push it over a cliff?"

"I guess."

"What if someone finds it?" 

It took Mark an embarrassingly long time to realize, as the men circled the car and moved to stand by the trunk that they were talking about ditching the car. Did that mean they had Virgil? Mark hadn't even heard anything happen... 

Still, they were in a pretty good position, Mark realized. Taking a chance, he moved himself back into the driver's seat and threw the car into reverse.

~~

Inside the cave, Virgil found a small group of teens, and they were friendly enough, even offered him a couple of cigarettes. They were just looking for a place to hang out without adults peering in on them, and being that Virgil was that age not too long ago, he thought he could understand. He warned them that there was supposed to be a fight there later and they decided to leave as a group. Virgil stayed behind a bit longer than they did, scoping out the area. In the back of the faux cave there was drop door that was held open by a metal pulley. It only opened a small bit, and for a moment, Virgil thought he was too tall to get through, but he was able to kind of twist his way through it. He carefully made his way up the stairs he found in the back, heading up to the next gate he saw above. He tugged at it, and after a little work, he was able to get it open. 

He cast a glance backwards, trying to see the car he’d left behind, with Mark sitting inside of it. He could really only make out the headlights shining through the wired fencing that made up the slanted roof of this place, through the overgrowth that obstructed any kind of normal view. He didn’t think anything suspicious was happening that he could make out. Feeling that it was safe for him to go a little further, he pushed open the gate and stepped out. 

Virgil heard the snap beside him and he whirled around, yanking his dagger from its sheath and slashing it out in front of him, and as expected, it cut into the arm of an approaching attacker. The vampire hissed and made another grab for him. 

Virgil grabbed his arm and weighed, briefly, his two options. He could kill this vampire, it would be easy for him to do, as he whirled him around and shoved him up against the gate. He could kill any number of his friends, too. As he fought this vampire he could hear them quietly skulking around.

Ultimately, he knew he only needed one of them to talk, to get them to tell him where they’d taken Hanna.

But how many were there?

He knew it had to be more than this one, so he shoved his blade into this vampire’s throat, watching as the creature began hemorrhaging blood from the wound. He turned around, just in time for another vampire to grab him, slamming him hard into the wall he’d seconds ago pinned the other vampire against. This one seemed younger, the way he was snarling at him, fangs snapping at him. Maybe a bit more feral than his counterparts. Virgil shoved his dagger into the vampire’s stomach, dragging it upwards to cut a long, deep line. He didn’t have much of a choice, there. He didn’t trust the younger ones to have much in the way of self-control. 

When that vampire fell away, he began to look for the one that was training him. A fresh vampire didn’t usually stray far from the one that turned him. He whipped back around as he heard a chuckle nearby. “Two birds, one stone.” He could barely make out the figure standing just inside the shadows. “Welcome, Virgil.” 

It didn’t take Virgil long to realize he wasn’t alone. There were others, mostly keeping to shadows, but he could tell they were there. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” Virgil lied, poorly, trying to act like he’d come up there entirely alone. It was around that time that he heard the car suddenly start up. Virgil whipped back around, facing the way he’d came. He could hear the car,  _ his  _ car, screeching loudly and hitting something… or two somethings. 

Mark.

Virgil backed off. One step, then another, until he felt he could safely turn, and began to run back towards the gate. Unfortunately, a vampire, who’d been lurking nearby, abruptly cut him off, slamming it closed. He snarled in Virgil’s direction, probably just for the effect.

The man standing behind him sighed. “Incompetents.” 

Virgil turned around sharply, brandishing his dagger at the one that seemed to be leading them. “Call them off of my partner.” He ordered the creature.

When he and Mark came out there, he was expecting to be dealing with a smaller group, maybe around six to ten vampires. He’d said as much to the other man. They didn’t typically gather in larger groups than that, due to the competition over resources. Knowing that he’d killed at least two, and figuring that Mark had obviously encountered a couple, and now that he was still, he was able to count at least ten standing near him, maybe more from all the noise… He did a quick count in his head.

This was a much larger group of vampires than he was expecting, and he was beginning to have the feeling that there were more, who weren’t even present. Whether it was just bad information or something he’d missed in his investigation, he was beginning to realize that he was in a lot more trouble than he’d realized. And now he’d drawn Mark into it too.

“Are you for real?” The vampire who appeared to be the ringleader asked. “What on earth makes you think you’re calling the shots here?” 

“Give me like…” Virgil glanced at his watch. “...about thirty seconds.” 

The creature blinked. “What?” 

“Maybe less.” Virgil answered, as he moved in. He was able to get around the man, grasping him around the shoulders, tugging him into his chest and pressing the dagger to his neck. With the vampire now his captive, he pressed the man again. “Call them off of my partner.” he ordered.

The vampire snickered, but he didn’t seem the least bit threatened or surprised. “You know, you’re pretty fast, for a human.” he said. “Guess that’s why you’re the only one we haven’t caught yet.”

Virgil’s blood went cold, when he heard the sound of metal crunching, like the vampires (who Mark probably couldn’t have really hurt just by crashing into them,) were clawing at the doors, the windows, and making their way through. Mark let out a loud shout. They had him.  _ Why didn’t he leave?? _

“That didn’t take long.” the vampire pointed out with a laugh. “You’re gonna want to drop that silly little knife, by the way.”

Virgil looked around the group, looking into the faces of every angry, blood thirsty vampire hovering nearby, just waiting to sink their teeth into him. He thought about Mark being held captive at the bottom of the hill. He didn’t have a family or anyone to go home to, not anymore. But Mark did.

From that point on his goal was to make sure that Mark made it home safely.

It pained him to do it, but he finally dropped his weapon. 

~~

It was nearing 2am when Milo finally pulled in. The house was dark, but he kind of expected it to be. Mark didn’t like to stay up too late, and Jenn was likely in bed hours ago too. Even Chica, he suspected, should be asleep, in her bed positioned at the end of Jenn’s. After being on the road for far longer than he should have been (he briefly cursed this city and it’s inept politicians for continually refusing to fix the roads) he was ready to just go inside, climb into bed next Mark, pull the man into his arms and fall asleep himself. 

When he entered the house, though, that scenario wasn’t what he came upon.

He found his cousin Calypso, napping on the pull-out part of the couch, with Jenn tucked up in her arms, also dozing. They were surrounded by some of Jenn’s toys, both of them wearing various accoutrement from Jenn’s different dress up costumes. There was also a half-eaten bowl of popcorn sitting on the coffee table, and Milo had the feeling that Jenn probably hadn’t brushed her teeth, if it was still sitting out like that. Chica was sleeping at their feet at the end of the pull out, and she picked her head up when Milo entered the room, gently wagging her tail. Greeting him quietly enough that she didn't wake the little girl. Chica was smart like that.

He dropped his bag by the door, and that apparently was enough to wake  _ everyone  _ up.

Jenn became alert the fastest, eyes going wide with excitement as he entered the room. “Dad!” She greeted him eagerly, holding her arms out to him. He chuckled a little as he moved to pick her up, tiny arms wrapping around his neck as she hugged him tightly. Jenn pulled back a little after, running her hands over his hair. “Fluffy.” She determined, as she studied his new look.

“I got it cut.” he corrected, shifting his hold on her a little so that he could move his hand through it. It was a lot more manageable like this, and he found he was okay with it. “I did it for your daddy.” He told her. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

“No.” Jenn told him firmly, narrowing her eyes at him as she appraised him. 

Milo smirked at her attitude. “I meant what he thinks, not what you think.” 

“No, she’s right, you look weird.” Calypso was a little slower to wake up, but she finally cast him a smile. “Hey cuz.” She greeted, yawning a little as she sat up. “What time is it?” 

“It’s not for either of you.” Milo reminded, moving his free hand to check his watch. “2:13.” He answered, glancing back to Calypso. “Where’s Mark?” He asked.

The woman looked like she was about to answer and then paused, sinking back against the pull-out. “He’s uh… he’s out.” She said. 

“Out.” Milo asked, tone far more serious than the one he used on Jenn, raising an eyebrow at her.

Calypso nodded. “It’s Los Angeles. It pretty much never sleeps. Isn’t that a thing they say? There’s probably a party happening somewhere.”

“In New Orleans, maybe. In Los Angeles if you’re not in bed by a certain time some low-life will shank you. Like a nastier Santa Claus.” Milo snorted. “Right, that sounds like something Mark would do. Leave his child behind to party irresponsibly.” he said sarcastically.

Jenn lifted her head from Milo’s shoulder, then, as if everything suddenly clicked for her and she had the answer. “Daddy said he was vampire hunting with Uncle Bird.” She told him helpfully. 

Milo blinked at that. “He’s what?” 

“Don’t tell Milo.” Jenn added then with a whisper, going so far as to put a finger in front of her lips and carefully shush him.

“Don’t… tell… Milo.” Milo repeated the words, finally looking back to Calypso, his irritation plainly written on his face.

Calypso frowned. “I was not prepared for her to snitch.” She said, as she pushed herself up from the couch pull out.

“Calypso.” Milo replied, giving her a look. “You let him take off, and-” 

“I didn’t  _ let  _ him. His mind was made up before I got here.” Calypso wiped a hand over her eyes to remove the sleep from them, and moved to take Jenn back from him. “I was actually expecting him to be back by now.” She admitted. “C’mere, Jenny.” She said. “I should probably put you in your real bed.” She said.

“Right…” Milo replied, allowing the women to gently take his daughter from him. “So about this whole, nasty, vampire hunting business…” 

Everyone paused, hearing a knock on the door. It was so early in the morning that there should have been no one at the door. Milo glanced at the door, then looked back to Calypso watching as his cousin shifted her hold on his daughter into a more protective one. If he didn’t know any better, he would think it a sign that the woman was nervous. 

“Take her upstairs.” Milo said to her. Then, he remembered he was dealing with his incredibly powerful cousin who happened to be a nymph, and who could absolutely take care of herself and protect Jenn and Milo and still take out whoever was behind that door. “Please.” he wisely adjusted his attitude.

“Good save.” Calypso smirked. “I like that Mark’s finally beginning to teach you some manners.” She teased, shifting Jenn onto her hip, and carrying the tiny girl upstairs. Jenn quietly waved at her father as she was carried by.

Once they were safely hidden upstairs, Milo finally went to unlock the door. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but Damien, leaning up against the doorframe wasn’t it. 

Damien bowed slightly at the waist, sweeping his arm out with a grandiose flourish in Milo’s direction. “Greetings.” He said cordially.

“What are you doing here?” Milo cut right to the chase, crossing his arms over his chest expectantly, like they weren’t old friends who’d known each other for centuries. His abruptness, as usual, drew a smile from Damien. 

“I do enjoy how you cut out the formalities right off the bat. No time for small talk with you.” he said, straightening up a little as he spoke. “If you were Cersa, she’d be updating me on all the happenings and she wouldn’t even get the news about Mark until…” He pretended to check his watch. “About 30 minutes from now.” 

“All you had to say was this was about Mark.” Milo told him, stepping backwards so that Damien could enter the house. 

“Well, and my protege.” Damien said, as he moved into the room, waiting for Milo to close the door behind him before speaking any further. “So… Mark and Virgil went on a hunt together.” 

Milo sighed, like he could already feel the tension headache coming on. “I had heard that much.” He said. “Which I don’t understand at all… after what he’d told me, I thought he’d be smart and just stay home.” he said. 

“It’s Mark.” Damien reminded him. “And Virgil was in a bit of a spot. You know better than anyone Mark’s propensity to throw himself on the grenade for the greater good.” 

“I’m aware of it. But he’s been better about it since we had Jenn.” Milo said. 

“Oh well, you know how it is. Boys and their propensity to slip.” Damien shrugged. “At the very least, I know they’re not hurt. Or not yet, but they are in trouble.” 

Milo glanced to him. “How do you know?” He asked. “If Mark was in trouble Cersa would be blowing up my phone by now…” he noted. “And I haven’t heard anything from her since I left San Diego.” 

“Right, her cute little connection spell to Mark. It’s mine now. I own it.” Damien confessed, showing absolutely no remorse for his act of thievery.

Milo blinked. Then blinked again. “You did what…?”

“It’s been a couple of years, I’m kind of surprised no ones noticed until now.” Damien said. “I noticed it back when Mark was carrying Jenn. You know what’s funny about those spells? They’re incredibly easy to manipulate without the original caster noticing.” 

“It wasn’t easy for Cersa…” Milo replied, remembering just how fast Bael figured out Cersa had cut his influence from the spell. “Wait, why are you tracking my husband exactly?” he questioned the man, with an air of suspicion in his tone.

“Cersa has a tendency to go into things with a sledgehammer. Something like that requires a surgeon’s touch.” Damien said with a smirk. “Let’s just say, the Boss has a vested interest in knowing Mark’s location at all points in time.” 

“That’s… concerning.” Milo said. “Cersa’s gonna be fucking mad at you when she realizes what you’ve done.” Milo replied. “But hey, you have that power now, so why don’t you tell me.” He said. “What happened with Mark and Virgil?”

“I’m shaking in fear of her.” Damien hummed softly, clearly doing no such thing. He tapped his fingers against his bottom lip as he answered. “They’ve been captured.” 

“What?” Milo asked, narrowing his eyes at the other man. “You said that way too nonchalant.”

“Settle down.” Damien told him sharply, moving to wave him off. “I can already see that look in your eyes. The one that tells me you’re about to overrun this city with unimaginable tsunami-like force to find him. Settle down and we’ll talk.” 

“I’m. Calm.” Milo got out between gritted teeth.

Damien rolled his eyes. “You’re a pill.”

“Look, just.” Milo breathed out slowly. In through his mouth, out through his nose. “What happened?”

“Well, as you know, the spell can only really give me impressions of what’s happening to Mark. I can tell they’ve roughed him up, but not too terribly, so they clearly have plans for him. I have a location, but no real idea of what he’s dealing with. How many people there are, who even has him. He’s kind of at an emotional baseline, so I’m assuming Virgil is alright for now.” Damien said. “Mark would have had a very visceral response if they’d hurt Virgil.” 

Milo frowned heavily at that. “Don’t remind me.” 

“Oh, let it go.” Damien encouraged him. “They’re simply good friends. Mark doesn’t feel for him what he feels for you.” He said assuringly.

“And what about Virgil?” Milo asked. 

Damien didn’t answer immediately. Milo rolled his eyes. “So he’s still nursing that crush.” 

“Virgil is young.” Damien waved Milo off again. “I don’t even think he knows he has a crush.” 

“Sure he doesn’t.” Milo replied, quietly fuming. “We should find them.” 

“I agree, of course.” Damien told Milo, still sounding like he was trying to keep Milo calm. “But first…” he threw an arm around Milo’s shoulders, very casually. “I’m feeling a little…. Thirsty.” 

~~

Virgil had been roughed up, tied and taken to, from the outside, what appeared to be an abandoned hospital. It was one that he thought he might have recognized, or perhaps had seen in a movie, somewhere. In Los Angeles these abandoned buildings were prime locations for whatever zombie apocalypse garbage they wanted to churn out. They didn’t seem terribly concerned about him seeing the building, or how to get to it, which didn’t spell out great things for his future. He saw Mark, briefly, as they were dragged into opposite entrances. He wasn’t sure what they had done to him, but he was completely passed out and had to be carried inside. 

After that he was shoved into what must have once been an examination room, and finally left alone. They’d taken his phone, his daggers, his flashlight, anything they thought he could have used to escape. But he had trained under Damien, and if there was one thing he’d learned from the old magician, it was to always have a weapon hidden somewhere. 

Once he was for sure that he wasn’t being monitored, he stomped his boot against the floor, dislodging a very small knife from the hollow in his boot heel. He crouched down low and grabbed it, and proceeded to cut his bindings from around his wrists. Once he was freed, he began to search the examination room. There really wasn’t too much there, not that he was expecting to find much. A bunch of old, expired medical supplies, some gloves. Tongue depressors. Gauze. Paper tape. He had the thought that if he was MacGuyver he could maybe jimmy some of this stuff into a shiv and fight his way out, but he just couldn’t see that happening with what he had. Besides, he knew it wouldn’t be smart to try anything until he knew where Mark was.

He glanced up when the door was suddenly yanked open. Speak of the devil. One of the vampires from Griffith Park shoved a bloodied, pale Mark into the room, seeming uncaring when the man sluggishly fell forwards. Virgil swore, moving in and catching Mark, tugging the man, who seemed dazed, into his arms, letting him rest against his chest. 

One of the vampires who’d taken them moved into the room, flanked by several others. Virgil ignored them for the moment, standing there with Mark while the man struggled to get his bearings.

“Careful with that one.” one of the vampires warned, giving Virgil a smug grin. “He’s a fighter.”    
  


Virgil shot the man an irritated look, before turning his attention back to Mark. “Mark, are you alright?” Virgil asked, quickly checking the man over. So far as he could tell, Mark had only a few scrapes and bruises, his lip bloodied from a painful looking split, a black eye. He shifted Mark’s bangs to the side to get a better look, and deemed it not serious. As he further examined him, he found a small cotton ball, wrapped with paper tape, pressed over a spot in Mark’s inner elbow. Virgil was quick to realize that they’d taken his blood. All in all though, he didn’t seem all that badly injured. So maybe when he had seen Mark unconscious earlier, it hadn’t actually been from the beating, it could have just been one of the vampires exerting their influence over him. Somehow, that idea just made Virgil angry.

Mark was having a very difficult time tracking things at this point in time but after a moment he was able to lock onto Virgil. “They took my blood.” Mark was finally able to get out. As he said it, he sounded very dazed, a little confused. 

“Well, of course we did. He has a very potent supply.” One of the vampires now gathered in the room spoke up. “If the boss was any kind of competent he’d keep him here, bottle and sell his blood on the black market. I know vamps who’d pay an arm and a leg for blood like that.” He sighed a little, licking his lips. Virgil had a feeling that that vampire had already ‘sampled’ Mark, if the nearly lewd expression on his face was any indicator. 

“But.” The vampire sighed. “We apparently already have a buyer for him. Can’t win ‘em all, I suppose.” 

“A buyer?” Virgil asked. 

The vampire nodded. “Eccentric guy. Old, even for a lot of us.” He said. “Wants Mark for a blood doll.” 

“He can’t have him.” Virgil said, feeling his own grip tighten around Mark. That motion seemed to sober up the other man real quick. He tipped his chin upwards, seeming to study Virgil for a moment, as his brain slowly caught up with what was happening. Yeah, Mark was acting like he’d been drugged. That was the influence of a vampire, or maybe more than one vampire. Virgil had built up a kind of tolerance to it over the years. Mark had no such chance, and the effect it had on him was obvious.

The vampire snorted at that. “Who’s going to stop us, you?” He asked, as he moved forward, into Virgil’s personal space. Virgil gently pulled Mark to his side, trying to shield him if he needed, and prepared to fight the other vampire. “Oh… we already have plans for you, virgin.” He said, smirking crookedly at Virgil. “You won’t be able to save Mark if you’re already dead.”

“What?” Mark asked. He’d been pretty much quiet throughout most of this exchange. But with Virgil under threat, he seemed to want to hop into action.

Virgil looked to him. “Stay quiet.” he advised, his voice a hushed whisper.

"No. No no." Mark protested, looking to the men that crowded the room. He pulled away from Virgil, stumbling a bit, but he ignored Virgil’s attempt to stop him, as he firmly placed himself in front of Virgil. “You can’t kill Virgil, he hasn’t done anything to deserve that.”

“He’s a hunter.” The vampire informed him. “That’s earned him a death sentence many times over. But the fact that he’s a virgin on top of that?” The man grinned, evil smile spreading from ear to ear. “Well that just makes this a very special occasion. Virgin blood is like sampling a fine, vintage wine.” He said. “There are a couple of big names coming down for the spectacle… we won’t want to disappoint them. This has been in motion for a while.” The man gestured in Mark’s direction. “You were more of a surprise, but we were able to make arrangements for you anyways.” The vampire hummed. “Lucky boy, you’re going to be living the life of Riley, whoever the fuck that is. You’re gonna be such a spoiled little lapdog, and all you have to do is grace the master’s bed whenever he demands.” 

“You fucking bastard…” Mark began to reply, but Virgil was quick to hush him. 

The vampire chuckled. “You have a few hours yet to say your goodbyes. Isn’t that kind of us?” He asked. "And by the way… Virgil?" The man said. "We'll be taking that last knife from you." He said, approaching the two of them. Virgil reached out and grabbed Mark, dragging the man back with him in order to put some distance between them. "Don't think we didn't notice. You were tied when we left you here." 

Virgil hesitated for a moment, giving real thought to the idea of resisting. But with Mark there to protect, he knew he couldn't take the risk. He gently nudged Mark to the side, and slammed his boot down on the floor, dislodging the knife. He left it there, casting the vampire an expectant look.

The vampire hummed. "Yeah, we'll see how long that attitude lasts when we’re having our fun with you." He said as he ducked down to grab the knife. 

~~

As soon as the group of vampires had exited the room, Virgil turned his attention back to Mark. “Here, let me see about those bruises.” Virgil said, as he went to guide Mark back to the examination table. It was wide enough that Virgil was certain they could use it for a bed, maybe just long enough to give Mark a chance to rest.

“Are you really that…” Mark looked to Virgil, flabbergasted. He pushed back at him, apparently too riled up to care about his own health. “If you knew that your virginity was going to paint a target on your back to a bunch of high society vampires, why would that not be the first thing you’d take care of?” He demanded. “Weren’t you seeing that girl for a while, how did you never seal the deal?”

Virgil glared at him for his stubbornness. Mark was bordering on panic right now, that much Virgil could tell, so he could forgive the outburst. “Look, it just never seemed like the right time, and I didn’t want it to be like… a notch on the belt. Meaningless. Especially not with her.” He sighed. “Something to do just because a bunch of vamps are going to kill me if I don’t. That’s the last thing I wanted.”

“Virg.” Mark stressed. “They are literally going to kill you in a few hours because you’re a goddamn virgin. That’s something that was an easy fix. You knew about this beforehand, you did.  _ Vampire  _ hunter. You  _ know  _ what vampires like, virgin blood!” Mark continued, but his tone became less angry and more frantic as he went on.

Virgil sighed. “I didn’t want it to be a disaposable fuck.” Virgil stressed to him. “Something to do just for… the job. That makes it seem so… detached.”

“But. You’re going. To die.” Mark stressed again, and he there was so much emotion in the words that it apparently took whatever energy Mark still had. He tilted, hard, to the side, with a bad case of vertigo suddenly coming over him. Virgil frowned, gently catching Mark and directing him back towards the examination table. He was going to have to try to patch Mark up, at least a little, before they came back for him. Maybe he could at least give Mark a fighting chance to escape.

"You know." Virgil said at length. "They would probably kill me anyways. Even if I wasn’t a virgin. It kind of seems like that’s what they were doing anyways. That’s why I’m the last hunter in this fucking town." He pointed out.

Mark shook his head. "There has to be something we can do. They're going to fucking eat you. Fuck." Mark went quiet for a moment after that outburst. He collapsed back against the bed, rubbing his head with the back of one of his hands. 

Virgil watched him for a moment, feeling he could almost see the gears in Mark’s head turning. "There's nothing i can do about it now." He said, as he sank down onto the table beside Mark.. 

Mark chewed at his bottom lip for a moment, as he stared up at the ceiling. “Have you checked the room?” He asked. 

“You mean for a way out?” Virgil asked him. “I didn’t see anything useful.” 

Mark sighed, pulling that hand down over his face. “Any chance we have a rescue coming?” He asked. 

Virgil bit his bottom lip. He could appreciate Mark’s optimism, but it wasn’t like he had his phone, and he figured Mark probably didn’t either. Damien was in another country. Who knew where Mark’s husband was, and he hadn’t exactly thought to tell anyone else what he was up to that night. He could count the people he trusted with this side of his life on one hand. One of those people was trapped in this room with him. “Doubtful.” He finally answered.

Mark twisted around, trying to see him from his position on the bed. “So… there’s really only one way out of this.” he said, raising his eyes to where Virgil was sitting. 

Virgil raised an eyebrow at him. 

Mark looked to him, and Virgil was almost fooled into thinking that he was sobered up now, more or less. Until he opened his mouth. “We should fuck.” 

Virgil stared at him. “How hard did they hit you?” He asked, looking worried again, as he moved in close to Mark once more. “Or maybe it’s their influence. The mind control.” He murmured. 

“Don’t be an ass.” Mark said, casting him an unamused look. “I’m not offering this lightly.” he said, shifting, slowly, to sit up. “I just don’t want you to die.” 

“Mark, you’re married.” Virgil pointed out. “And your husband already hates me.” 

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know. I know MIlo’s going to kick my ass.” Mark replied, and there was some pretty evident stress in his tone. “Look, I know that this is… and that they’re…”

“No, he’s _ kill me _ .” Virgil pointed out. “Come on.” Virgil encouraged. “Walk me through the logic, here.” he said. “You do this and maybe they don’t get their big spectacle.” Virgil shrugged. “They’re going to kill me anyways. They have to. They have Hanna, and they know that I’m going to work my way through every one of them until I find her.” He said. “That doesn’t leave them with a lot of options, you know.” 

“Yeah, maybe?” Mark argued. “We don’t know if it’ll just inconvenience them, or…” 

“That’s all it’ll do.” Virgil insisted. 

Mark glared at him. “You don’t know that.” He said. “Even if it just buys us some time, maybe we could figure out another way out of here.” He tried. “Or maybe our rescue will show up. In the nick of time. You don’t know.”

Mark was quiet for a moment, seeming to try and rationalize everything in his head.

“Look, even if it’s just for a few more minutes, it’s worth it. If we can just make it until, either someone breaks us out, or we find an opening, it’s worth it.” Mark said. “Virgil.” he said, prompting the other man to look over to him. “There’s no way I’m getting out of this without you. You know this.” he said. 

Virgil didn’t reply immediately. Mark had a point with that one. He’d already shown how susceptible he was to the vampire’s influence. If Virgil wasn’t there to guide him through it, it would make escape a lot more difficult for Mark. 

Mark sighed a little. “They… they sold me.” he said, sinking down a little, as the realization hit him. “There’s… a fucking… person out there who spent actually, honest to god money on me. Like I’m an object.” he said.

Virgil looked over, noticing that Mark was shaking. “Mark.” he said, voice quiet and low. 

“And if that monster gets a hold of me, what are they going to do?” He asked, wiping a hand across his face. Trying to block the tears from falling, Virgil realized. “What am I going to do if I never see Jenn again? Milo?” He asked.

Virgil weighed his options carefully. Mark was his priority, here. Mark didn’t have to come on this excursion, he came because he was worried about him. Mark had wanted to protect  _ him _ . The entire reason Virgil had allowed it was because he was thinking that this wasn’t a huge group of vampires he was dealing with. He thought it was a small gang with a grudge. For them to have an operation like this was unprecedented, something he had no experience with. Maybe his brother, with his experiences dealing with the problem of vampire rings one in Europe, would have seen the signs. His father? There’s no question he would have known, he had dedicated his life and his two sons to this. But Virgil had been a poor student in this regard. 

He knew he had failed Mark. He’d failed Hanna.

Now Mark was offering him this last, desperate opportunity to save himself. Because Mark couldn’t handle seeing a friend die, not when there was something he could do to prevent it. Hell, maybe if they did this, maybe Mark’s vampiric benefactor wouldn’t want him anymore. Which was admittedly a fucked up thing to think about. But desperate times called for desperate measures, right?

Virgil reached out, gently hushing Mark.

“Alright.” Virgil said at length. “We’re going to do this.” he said. “But we’re going to do it my way, alright?” Virgil figured he was in a better state of mind than Mark was, currently. At the very least, he could do this in a way that wouldn’t hurt Mark any further.

It took Mark a moment, but he finally agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I love Calypso. Anyone up to date on your Greek mythology know her backstory? Trapping a mortal man on her island, intending to make him immortal and be hers for all eternity, and nevermind the fact that he's married? Those of you following this story from the beginning, that sound familiar? These grandkids of Poseidon man. It runs in the family. 
> 
> I should probably highlight some of the places I'm using in this chapter. It's gonna be a much shorter story than hurricane year, so I ought to do that in the notes. 
> 
> This is the old [Griffith Park Zoo](https://youtu.be/XmaMPCE5AEc)
> 
> And this is the [hospital](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Linda_Vista_Community_Hospital) I've taken Mark and Virgil too.
> 
> Los Angeles is basically a third world country. (Oh yes, you fucking knew you weren't going to escape my hatred of Los Angeles in this fic. You all knew it was coming.) There's a ton of abandoned sites like these. Although it does seem like they've been trying to revamp some of them. They're not quite the crumbling, dangerous places they were the last time I visited LA. It's been years since I've gone to LA. I have no plans to ever go back to LA. I live 40 minutes away and I will never go back to LA. Trust me, the rest of the entirety of the USA is so much nicer.
> 
> But on that note, since I wasn't actually planning on taking Mark out of his current hometown for this fic, I wanted to use places that were nearby, that I've had some experience with. Which, by the way, I HATE that Mark has only done the whole Griffith Park thing recently, that completely destroys my narrative in Saints of Los Angeles that he'd already done it. Like come on, he's the guy with the space fetish, and it's not like there's tons of shit to do in LA that's not old two seconds after you do it. Literally, only good things to do in LA are the Griffith Park Observatory and the La Brea Tarpits, and even La Brea they've managed to turn into a fucking chore. 
> 
> Okay, I'm about done with my ranting. Only one more thing to address. 
> 
> From this point on in the story, [this](https://www.instagram.com/p/Bz6KyyGFjvO/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link) is what Milo is wearing. For completely valid reasons, and not because I choked on my coffee when I saw it. (Look, he's a handsome guy, okay?)


	3. The Hollywood Vampires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, SO sorry for how long this one took. I promise I have a really good excuse though. I'm gonna let you all read the chapter though, my excuse is in the bottom notes, lol.

Mark blinked a little when Virgil snapped his fingers in front of his face. 

“Again?” Mark asked, tone exasperated.

“Yeah.” Virgil said. “Are they becoming more frequent? These black outs?”

“I mean.” Mark sighed dragging a hand down his face. “I don’t know. I don’t think they happened as often as they have today.” 

“I see.” Virgil replied, still frowning.

Mark studied him for a moment. “Should I be worried?” he asked.

Virgil shrugged. “Maybe. But, the only thing we can do is to separate you from the vampires.” He said.

“Ah.” Mark said, centering himself a little on the examination table. “Fat chance of that happening anytime soon.”

“Yeah, that’s for sure.” Virgil replied, as he approached the bed once more. Mark shifted a little, his nerves starting to ramp up as the other man approached. Virgil seemed to notice how tensed up Mark immediately became, and he paused, looking to him. “Having second thoughts?” He asked.

Oh, Virgil was a sweetheart. He would back out and take the death in a heartbeat. But Mark was just as stubborn as Virgil was sweet. There was no way, no fucking way he was going to let Virgil die like that. Not when there was something he could do to prevent it. 

“No. Not at all.” Mark said, tipping his chin up. “I just… I don’t know why I’m letting the virgin do this part.” It was all bravado, and Virgil could obviously tell from the look he was giving him. 

“Are you really going to judge my performance during my first time?”

“I get to judge a little bit here, I’m the one getting fucked.” Mark replied a bit snidely.

They'd found a little container of petroleum jelly that was probably expired, but it might be the best they could find as far as lubricants went in their tiny examination room. But Mark, when doing this with Milo, had probably, almost definitely used worse. Like the time they'd been arguing for so long, getting no nearer to any kind of a conclusion, that Milo finally lost his patience, pinned Mark to the floor, and fucked him with nothing to ease the way. It was dirty, it bordered the line on abusive in a number of ways, but once the frantic, heated passion had cooled they finally talked and figured everything out. Things were going to be a little different with Virgil. Mark didn't want to stress him out, but he didn't want to be limping out of the old hospital later either, especially when he was already hurting. He didn’t want to be a hindrance to their escape, and he didn’t want to risk any kind of scenarios where he might have to tell Virgil to go on without him. 

Before they did anything Virgil assessed him again and they determined the best way to do this would be facing each other, with Mark on his back, so that he wouldn't be putting pressure on his injuries. He shucked his pants and unders and laid back down, and now Virgil was hovering. Nervous, probably. Mark was too.

They’d have to be looking at each other, which would be weird, but this whole situation was weird.

Virgil slid onto the examination table, taking his time as he settled over him.    
  
“How should I…”

  
  


“You just… make sure you have that finger covered.” Mark tried to walk him through the process. 

“I know. I do know the basics” Virgil said, but his voice was shaking in a way that Mark didn’t especially like. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” 

Mark chewed his bottom lip as he suddenly felt Virgil’s hands between his bare thighs. His breathing stuttered a little when he felt the cool, thick slickness of the gel up against his entrance and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out, clapping his hands tightly on Virgil’s shoulders, nails digging in. 

“I need to ask you a selfish favor.” Mark said, bringing everything to a halt. 

Virgil blinked. “Your timing is questionable but sure.” he said, drawing his hand back for a one, blessed moment. Mark took a deep, stuttering breath, letting it out through his nose, before he began to talk.

“If we’re in the process of doing this and that weird zone out, black out thing happens again, just don’t wake me up. Just keep going.” Mark said. “I get that it’s selfish, that it’s not fair, making you push ahead alone. This is as bad for you as it is for me.” He took another deep, calming breath. Virgil had pulled back but he was still hovering nearby, he could feel the man’s hands against his thighs. Mark was fighting very, very hard against every instinct that wanted to push him away.

Hey, this was his idea. It was time to man up.

“It’s fine.” Virgil told him. 

“It’s not.” Mark insisted. “It’s really not. But I don’t think I can do this and still be able to look at my husband after. I know the two of us don’t always get along, but I do love him, I swear…”

“You never had to explain that to me.” Virgil promised him. Mark kind of settled at Virgil’s reassurance. Maybe he just needed to hear that, that doing this didn’t mean that he loved Milo any less. He wasn’t cheating. He just didn’t want Virgil to die. That was what he had to focus on.

And maybe strangle that little voice in the back of his head that was being incredibly self-critical right now. 

As they both settled back down, Virgil resumed his work. Mark clenched his jaw when he felt that questing finger brush up against him again. To his credit, Virgil was at least going slow. When it finally began to press in, Mark’s hands grasped onto Virgil’s upper arms again, fingers curling inward, nails digging into the man’s sleeves. He was going to leave bruises, and he didn’t think he cared. A noise escaped him and Virgil stopped again.

“Is this hurting you?” Virgil asked, voice filled with concern. 

Mark shook his head wordlessly, closing his eyes tightly. He had the distant thought that maybe this would be easier if it did.

“Just keep going.” he implored. “Don’t worry about me.”

Virgil didn’t still again. He continued pressing inside of him, keeping that slow, steady pace until he was as deep as he could get. “I’m going to worry.” Virgil said pointedly. “You know I can’t not…” 

“I promise.” Mark insisted. He was gripping Virgil’s arms so hard now that he could almost feel his own limbs shaking.

He felt Virgil shift on the bed. Mark held his breath as he felt him move closer. But Virgil didn’t move on. He felt Virgil’s unoccupied hand slide under him, gently caressing along his back. 

“It’s okay.” Virgil insisted. “It’s okay.” 

Mark felt something break inside of him.

“Come on.” he insisted, drawing Virgil in as hard as he could muster. “Come on, please.” he said.

At Mark’s gentle insistence, Virgil continued his preparation. Coating him thoroughly with the gel, adding a finger and stretching him. He was so slow and gentle, and the hand on his back so soothing, projecting such calm. It was one of the things Virgil was so good at doing. Mark hissed out a breath when Virgil, almost experimentally, spread his fingers out. 

Virgil paused again, looking to him with such concern.

Mark shook his head. “It’s fine.” he encouraged. “Didn’t hurt, and for the record, you don’t have to stop every time I make a noise.” he said. 

“Okay.” Virgil said, though he sounded unconvinced. He shifted a little, and Mark could feel the man kind of experimentally moving those fingers around inside him. “What’s supposed to make this good for you?” He asked.

“Are you… for real…?” Mark asked, and it took him a moment of fighting his instincts here, but he finally opened an eye and studied the other man. He didn’t mean to come off as being judgemental here, but even he remembered sex-ed covering male to male sex in high school, and Virgil was at least five years younger than he was. 

Virgil gave him a dry look. “Look, I get the concept, and I’m sort of vaguely aware of where it is, but it’s not like I’ve ever… found it on myself…” he said, looking vaguely uncomfortable, which was funny, because the guy was currently three fingers deep in Mark’s ass. 

“I get what you’re saying.” Mark finally told him. “Look, don’t worry about making it good for me, I don’t really want-”

Before Mark could finish his sentence, Virgil tipped his fingers upwards and, completely accidentally, brushed along the area in question, causing fire to shoot down Mark’s spine. It drew a hard gasp and a look of shock out of him, as he looked up to Virgil

Virgil gave him a look that didn’t quite border on smug, but Mark didn’t like it at all. “So here.” 

“Okay, just.” Mark released his grip on one of Virgil’s biceps to shove at his chest. “Just fuck me already. I’m good, you’re good. Lube it up and put it in.” 

“Mark.”

“No, seriously, I’m fine.” Mark said, squirming a little as he fell back to the bed. 

“Okay.” Virgil said, and just like with everything else he was, he pulled out his fingers with the utmost gentility. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I wish you didn’t care so much.” Mark said, before shaking his head. “I mean about hurting me, I’m a tough guy.” He insisted. “I’m just… I don’t want to- I don’t want it to feel good, I don’t want to- to enjoy myself doing this.” He said. 

“Why?” Virgil asked him. “Isn’t that the point?” he asked.

“I’m worried about…” he paused, realizing this was probably the stupidest concern he’d ever had. The longer he thought about it, the more he wanted to chide himself for being stupid. “I’m worried…” he said, gritting his teeth. “I’m worried that if I like it too much… I’m just…” he thought about Milo again. “If I don’t get anything out of this, maybe it’ll feel… less like… cheating.” Mark finally sighed, his cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment.

Virgil studied him for a moment. “Yeah, I can see why you wanted to be blacked out during this.”

“I know I’m overthinking things.” Mark said. 

“I feel compelled to once again offer you an out…” Virgil offered seriously.

Mark shot him a look, pointedly not admitting to just how tempting it was for him to want to take it. “If you keep telling me we can stop, you’re going to make me mad.” he said. “Don’t fucking try to stop me for my own good, you know me better than that.” 

“Yeah, I do.” Virgil replied. “That’s why I worry.” 

“Just fuck me you idiot.” Mark insisted. “Let me save your skin for a change.”

Virgil shook his head, but he fortunately didn’t say anything further. Mark settled back, closed his eyes and tried to relax as he heard Virgil prep himself. The zipper sliding down. The rustling of clothing. The slick sounds of the jelly as the other man lubricated himself. 

Then the man’s hands were on his hips. Mark unintentionally whimpered as Virgil pulled him down the mattress a little, but to his credit, Virgil didn’t stop this time. He felt the head of Virgil’s length pressing against his entrance, exploratorially. Virgil stilled for just a second, then began to press in. The other man was exceptionally careful, moving slowly, taking great care. One of his hands found the small of his back and rested there, and Mark found himself reaching out to Virgil, gently tugging the other man in as he began to shake.

Virgil tenderly pulled him close, giving him the comfort he clearly needed. Mark pressed his head into Virgil’s shoulder as the man finally settled deep inside. 

Virgil didn’t move, seeming to study Mark for a second. “Breathe.” Virgil told him. 

Mark suddenly exhaled. He hadn’t even realized he’d held it. He opened his eyes to see Virgil kind of studying him, but Mark could tell that he wasn’t unaffected. He was chewing his bottom lip hard enough to bleed, sweat was misting his forehead. 

Shit, Mark had almost forgotten. This is Virgil’s first damn time. Of course he’s affected too. Mark hadn’t exactly been taking it easy on him. It wasn’t just this he was trying to deal with, either. He was still facing down the fact that if this doesn’t work, if these vamps don’t give a fuck, he could still die tonight. Virgil had a lot going on, and he was holding it together pretty remarkably well, all things considered.

“Hey.” Mark said, kind of hesitantly placing his hands back on Virgil’s shoulders. “You’ve been a perfect gentleman.” He told Virgil. 

It startled a laugh out of Virgil. "Is that right?"

Mark nodded. "If things were any kind of different… I mean, if circumstances were different…" Mark studied him for a moment. "I'd be into it." 

"Yeah." Virgil agreed. "Not that I'm… not."

"You know I can feel how into it you are." Mark pointed out with a lopsided grin. 

Virgil reached for him, gently brushing his fingers through Mark's bangs. It was almost too much for him, how sweet Virgil was being. How familiar the touch was. That was a move out of Milo's playbook, for sure. It kind of made him wonder how long Virgil had been wanting to do that…

This was getting awkward, Mark realized. Time to put an end to it.

Mark shook it off and rocked his hips upwards. "Come on." He encouraged. "I'm fine. I'm ready, let's do this."

Virgil nodded. He took a deep breath, held onto Mark's hips, and finally began to move.

~~

“See the thing is…” Damien said at length, as he directed Milo down yet another borderline abandoned, dark street in this very sketchy part of town. “I wanted to let Virgil solve his own problems.”

There were a number of shady looking bars in Hollywood. A couple of them had become famous just from the notoriety of their patronage. Places like the Rainbow, and it’s famous drinking club. 

Milo blinked in the glare from another broken street light, shifting a little as he looked to Damien for more of an explanation. “You knew what he was doing?” he questioned. He thought Damien had said as much earlier, but Milo had a tendency to be very single-minded where Mark was concerned, and as soon as he heard the man was in trouble, that’s what he wanted to focus on.

But Damien didn’t call him out, just nodded. 

“I was kind of following along with this last case, you know?” He said, looking to Milo. “Giving him a few pointers here and there, but I mean, he’s a man, he’s come a long way from where he was when I first started working with him. This one didn’t seem like a huge deal to me. Small vampire gang. I even recognized some of the players. But the connections didn’t really click until I was in Tijuana, collecting on a few debts for the Boss.” Damien said, kind of shifting in his seat. Milo cast him a side-long glance. He understood probably better than anyone what that meant. He’d hung out with Damien for long enough to know what happened to people who didn’t pay off their debts to the Boss. It was why he tried to never let the man do him any favors, though now with this whole business with Mark, it kind of seemed like he wouldn’t have a choice.

“What do you mean?” He asked. 

“I overheard a conversation.” Damien said, kind of staring off into the distance out the window. “They had a group of kids they were smuggling into the U.S., and they were parsing them out.” he said, frowning a little. “What they would be best suited for. Prostituition, or… well.” Damien shrugged. “Sick shit.”

Milo didn’t think he needed any further explanation. He knew damn well what happened to kids smuggled over the border. Being that he had a child, it wasn’t something that set well with him, not at all. “And that made you think about Virgil’s case?” Milo asked. 

“They mentioned a particular business in Los Angeles, and a certain name cropped up.” Damien replied, glancing pointedly to Milo. “And a very special request that he apparently had.”

“Do I want to know?” Milo asked. Damien snorted, as he continued to focus on the road ahead of them. 

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Damien said simply. 

Milo hummed a little at that. He thought he could figure out what that request had been, so he didn’t interrogate Damien any further. “So you totally fucked it.” Milo said, after a moment. “Is what I’m getting from you here.” 

“Shut your mouth, ceviche del diablo.” Damien snapped, pointing towards the windshield. Milo snorted a little at the insult. Leave it to Damien; he spends one day in another country and comes back fluent in the language, but only the cursing and insults. “Take the next side street.” the man directed.

Milo followed the direction Damien gave him, and before long they were pulling into the darkened parking lot of what looked like an old, abandoned church. If this was a bar, it was one that Milo had never heard of before, but he had to admit the aesthetic was very much Damien. Something once holy painted black and dressed in leather. Innocence corrupted, that was his theme.

He still had to wonder what in the hell they were doing there when Mark and Virgil apparently needed a rescue, but Damien had been insistent. 

Milo glanced at his car, where they’d parked it on the street, and took a good look around. There was garbage detritus in the road. There were several vagabonds from what looked to be a local gang smoking on a street corner. A shaking, dishevelled man staggered by, passing far too close to Milo’s car for his own comfort. 

Milo shot Damien a look. “My car better still be here when we come back.” 

“Don’t worry.” Damien chided. “They’re not going to do anything. They know better.” 

“How do they know better?” Milo demanded, looking over to Damien. 

“Obviously, because I taught them.” he said darkly. “Let’s go.” Damien gave him a sidelong glance that dared Milo to question him further. Evidently, Milo knew better, too.

Damien took off, passing through the gate and into the parking lot. Milo couldn’t help but notice how dimly lit the entire area was. It was the prime place to get mugged, but Damien charged along without any apparent fear, side-stepping a homeless man as he did. Milo quietly followed along behind him, following in his footsteps to avoid the various dangers that were littered here and there. Eventually, they reached a pair of heavy, wooden twin doors, intricately carved with the imagery of the Virgin and her Son carved into it. Damien pushed them open easily enough and stepped inside, Milo following close behind.

The first thing Milo recognized was the pounding, electric notes of a familiar song. 

_ My body explodes of life _

_ But my soul runs straight to hell _

_ Mama please, please help me _

_ My own rage devours me... _

The song seemed rather fitting for the tall, darkly dressed man who led the way inside, past a tightly packed group of writhing, grinding bodies as he headed towards the bar section of the club. Milo’s face twisted up in mild disgust as the scent of weed and iron hit his nostrils, a combination he wasn’t particularly fond of. It gave him everything he needed to know about the place though. 

This was a vampire bar. It’s patrons were there to imbibe blood, mixed with various drugs, or alcohol. Whatever their poison was when they were still alive. Milo had heard about these places before, these structures of ill-repute. No one was even really sure if mixing blood with the libation of choice even did anything, but the vampires who partook swore by it. Milo just figured it was a mind over matter thing.

Damien’s gaze swung from one end of the bar to the other, sweeping over the crowd, examining it’s various patrons, before he reached behind him and took Milo’s arm. “Stay close, alright?” .

“What?” Milo asked, instantly suspicious, as he allowed Damien to pull him. “Why? Are you really afraid of these...” He glanced around the room. It was exceedingly easy for him to identify who was who in the darkness. The vampires, with the treated blood mixed into their drinks. The humans, who likely stumbled into this place thinking it no different from any other bar, and various other creatures who hardly seemed relevant to their current mission. None of them he would have considered a threat, really. Sure they were vampires and demons, magic users and here and there, the odd were-creature. But he was a god. He knew his place amongst the rabble.

“So I can watch your back.” Damien answered, as he effectively frog-marched Milo to an empty stool at the bar. 

“Or use me as a human shield?” Milo suggested suspiciously, as he allowed the other man to shove him into the seat. He hit it with a decent amount of force due to Damien’s pushing, the stool skidding across tile flooring.

“Well, let’s say your assumption is the case. You’d be far more suited to survive an attack than I.” Damien pointed out, his expression bordering on amused. “Tell yourself you’re doing the noble thing and protect me.” He said. 

“Right. Sure.” Milo rolled his eyes. As he took his seat the barmaid (who seemed to be conversing with an overly flirtatious female vamp at the other end of the bar, yeah, Milo recognized when someone was trying to finagle better pour,) glanced over. As her eyes trailed over to Milo, it became apparent very quickly how Damien came to be a patron of this place. She was a stunning creature, human, though the way she dressed and acted made it seem as though she was attempting to portray otherwise. She had long, black hair that fell nearly to her waist, with a distracting hourglass figure. She had on a shirt that clung to all the right places, low-cut enough to give a peek at her ample chest, with lettering across the front that read:  _ Ghouls, Ghouls, Ghouls _ . She was chewing on her plump bottom lip, painted cherry-red, a color that stood out in contrast to her milky-white skin. Adorning her breast-bone was a necklace with a rather large spider ornament, with an emerald jewel hanging beneath it, drawing attention to her chest. She had on a pair of black jean shorts, under which she’d pulled on a pair of fishnet tights, and to finish the outfit, a chunky pair of leather, mid-length boots. She was a gothic day-dream. A modern day Snow White with a drinking problem. When she glanced up from her conversation, she took in her new guests, sizing him up, before locking onto Damien. She cast him a smile that told Milo of a hidden history, there. She politely broke away from the pouting vamp, and moved to stand in front of where Damien was standing beside Milo.

“Damien.” she said the name with a teasing tone. The woman, who was obviously (to Milo at least) not a vampire, she just put on a good show of pretending to be one, placed a hand on her hip, kind of jutting it out in a manner that could be taken for sassy or sexy. Or both, honestly. “You wouldn’t happen to be dropping by to pay off your tab, now…” 

“My lady…” Damien cooed at the girl in his dusky, masculine voice, and it all clicked together for Milo, because Damien only ever slipped into that seductive tone when he was flirting. But he was keeping that information to himself. This girl looked like she’d slit Damien’s throat for even looking at another woman. Granted, it had been a long time since Damien had had a real romantic interest. Those were few and far between for the other man, and Milo couldn’t think of a single time Damien had allowed one to get all that close. This girl seemed to break all of his rules.

“Damien, everytime you come in here you’re either running up your tab or chasing off my business.” She interrupted him, and despite the words escaping her, her manner was entirely chilled, maybe even a little bit playful. So despite what she was saying, she was clearly very into Damien as well. She was just playing hard to get. The girl clearly knew how to play a man to keep him interested. Funny, but Milo figured that was just the kind of woman that would knock Damien flat on his ass, he’d absolutely die for a woman like that. “Last time you were here I had a couple of my high-paying regulars staying away for well over a week, so if you’re about to stir up trouble, I may need some kind of a down payment…” 

“I mean, it’s been a slow week…” Damien blatantly lied. Milo must have made a face at him too, because he shot Milo the dirtiest look for it. “But here, look.” He pulled out his wallet, taking out a handful of bills without counting them and slipped them onto the marbled grey surface of the counter-top. “Does that help?”

Without a word, the woman snatched up the money, also without counting, and quickly slid it into her bra. It drew a fair amount of attention to her chest, not just from him and Damien, but from a few of the customers who just happened to be nearby, and Milo wasn’t shy himself about checking her out. He’d had his fair share of female lovers, as well as male, and long ago found he could appreciate both equally. Actually, he was kind of glad that Mark wasn’t there, because Mark would likely be checking her out too, and that would make Milo all kinds of jealous. “It helps.” She said, after a moment. “But the rest?”

“Like I said. It’s been a slow week.” Damien shrugged. Milo shot Damien a look. He’d never known Damien to have problems with money, ever. He always had a stash somewhere. The man had expensive tastes, after all. So, why was he lying to the girl? She seemed to take it in stride though, shooting Damien an almost knowing glance. 

“One of these days, I’m going to make you pay up before I let you have your fun.” The girl cooed at him, sizing him up. “You still have that motorcycle? I could take that until you square up with me.” She said, her voice lilting and teasing.

“Nah. Sold it. Unfortunately.” Damien replied, amused.

“Shame.” the girl sighed. “I always thought it was damn hot. Could you imagine me riding on that thing?” She purred at him. Damien raised an eyebrow at that, but it was perfectly clear to Milo that the wizard was picturing that very thing. From the way he shifted his stance, Milo assumed he liked what he was imagining. “So, drink before you go stirring up trouble?” She offered. 

“Jack and coke for me.” He said, and finally pointing to where Milo was sitting. “And let’s get my friend here a drink too.” 

“I was wondering how long the two of you were going to ignore me.” Milo said, glancing to the man in a manner that said just how rude he thought Damien was being. 

Damien smirked in his direction. “Please get my asshole friend with the superiority complex the graveyard.” Damien directed the girl.

Her eyes snapped over to Milo in surprise. “Seriously?” She asked, as she moved to pull a large glass cup from the shelf behind her. 

“Oh, he’s a big boy, he can handle it.” Damien insisted, placing a way too friendly hand on Milo’s shoulder. Milo gave Damien a highly unamused look, and he brushed Damien’s hand off of his shoulder.

“What’s a grave...” Milo began to ask, as the girl busied herself preparing the drink. Milo was already a little skeptical of anything Damien would offer him. Then he watched as the girl poured a shot of vodka into it. Then rum. Then gin. And she kept going. Tequila. Triple sec. Whiskey. Scotch. And she wasn’t done. Half a guinness. Half a beer. “....yard.”

Milo had to wonder what exactly they were walking into if Damien wanted him drunk for it, but he was more than willing to go along with it.

“That.” Damien answered readily. The girl slid the glass over to Milo, who caught it one handed and held it up to eye-level. The color of the drink wasn’t encouraging, a greyish brown-color that almost looked like it had pieces floating throughout the mixture. Like mud, he thought, and he realized that that must have been where this drink had gotten its name, and considering it’s soaring alcohol content, it absolutely sounded like the kind of drink that could kill you.

“And here’s your water.” The girl said, as she placed Damien’s jack and coke in front of him. “You the designated driver tonight, or something?” She teased, moving to pick up a dirty glass and clean it in one of the sinks. 

“Actually, I’m on a bit of a rescue mission. So I need to keep my wits at least partially intact.” Damien replied as he adjusted the leather gloves he was wearing. Pulling them on tighter. Preparing for a fight. Damien pointed out the vampire girl that had been trying to flirt with the barmaid earlier. “What’d she have?” he asked curiously.

“Something strong.” The barmaid answered, as she set the now sanitized cup aside to dry. “A positive laced with heroin. I’m not sure it’s actually having an effect on her, but she’s acting like it is.” She paused in her cleaning, examining Damien with narrowed eyes. “What kind of a rescue mission?” She asked him curiously. “You’re not exactly the type to step out of his danger zone for someone else.”

“Well.” Damien shrugged. “I don’t have very many friends.” he noted vaguely. 

The woman behind the bar nodded softly, as Damien took his drink, tossed it back, and paused, tipping his head to the side a bit as he tasted the drink, seeming to swish it over his pallette for a second. “Cherry coke?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in the girl’s direction once more.

She smiled. “Made it a little bit more exotic for you.” She said.

“Interesting.” Damien said, as he finished the drink. He set the glass back down on the counter before moving towards the female vamp. Before he could fully move away though, the barmaid leaned out and caught his arm, squeezing it firmly. 

“Be careful.” she whispered to him. Milo inclined his head, interested, as he could tell that she was very obviously less worried about the state of her establishment, and concerned for the man’s well-being. Damien glanced down to where she had a tight hold on his arm.

“Aren’t I always?” He asked her devilishly. She shot him a grin. 

“No. Absolutely not.” She said. “And I’m not carting your ass to the hospital either. My car is far too nice to allow her to be stained with your blood, so just do yourself a favor, and don’t get hurt.” She told him, finally releasing his arm.

Damien grinned at the woman brightly. “I love you too, Carly.” he said, finally making his way over to the vamp girl, who suddenly seemed a lot more worried, and honestly, Milo thought, understandably. Almost immediately, some dumb, white knight drunk human staggered to defend her from Damien. Milo felt for the woman’s influence, and realized she wasn’t even trying to enchant Damien’s next victim, over here. The guy was just that drunk.

Milo just watched and sipped at his drink, knowing that Damien was also a big boy, and he could also take care of himself. "So you're a friend of Damien's." Milo finally spoke up, conversationally..

The woman hummed a little, along with the tune of the far too loud music reverberating in this space. "What makes you think that?" She asked him, as she continued to wash some of the cups. 

Milo took another sip of the questionable drink. It actually wasn’t that terrible, but he figured that was probably because of the insane alcohol content. It was deceptive, and he kind of liked it. He began to toss the drink back a bit more heartilly. “I mean. It’s pretty obvious that he likes you. His entire demeanor changed when he saw you.” He pointed out to her.

“Yeah? How did his demeanor change...” The woman said. She paused, seeing Milo slam his now empty cup onto the bar’s surface. “Holy shit.” She said. 

Milo wasn’t even slightly phased. “Yeah, could you get me another one of those…?” He asked. 

Impressed, the woman began to make up another drink for him. “So, you’re obviously not human.” She noted, as she got her numerous ingredients together for the drink. “Were you cursed?” She asked. 

Milo shrugged. “I was born with it, but really, born with it, cursed, what’s the difference?” He said flippantly. 

They both looked up when a loud screech echoed throughout the small bar. Milo turned his head just in time to see Damien slam the man’s head into the bar. Repeatedly. Once the man’s skull had weakened enough to knock him out, Damien let him slip to the floor. Now he had the rest of the bar’s patrons attention. He looked back over to the barmaid, ignoring the way the closer patrons were beginning to gear up for a fight. The vampire girl standing beside him screamed, putting on the act of a frightened, innocent girl. But Milo could tell just by looking at her that it was all a manipulative act. “Another jack and coke, please?” Damien asked politely, as he examined the man’s date very carefully, where he lay unconscious on the ground. Damien was patient, waiting for his drink. When the barmaid finally slid it over to him, he picked up where he left off, turning to now question the girl.

Milo took his second drink and began to pound that too. “So.” He said, his focus shifting once again to the barmaid “Your name?” He asked.

“Carly Gunn.” She answered readily. “You?”

“I rarely give out my own.” Milo told her, shrugging. “But since you’ve already given me yours, and I doubt there’s much you could do with it… Kasmilos Cabeiri.” He said. 

“I was about to be real mad if you stiffed me. And how do you know I can’t do anything with it?” Carly teased him a little, despite his attitude. She glanced over as the woman Damien was speaking to suddenly made a break for it, trying to run from the bar. As Milo followed her gaze, Damien grabbed the wrist of another man, cracking his arm back and letting fall a knife the man had apparently pulled on him. Milo hadn’t even noticed he was armed, but he wasn’t alarmed enough to jump to Damien’s defense, either. Besides, it was good for Damien to get a black eye every once in a while, reminded him that he wasn’t always so superior. 

Ironically, Damien probably thought the same about him.

Carly began to mix him a third drink and looked to Milo expectantly as she prepared it.

“Because if you were a spell-caster I would have noticed. Magic has a tingling, sensation to it, carries the faintest scent of burning leaves. Like with Damien, I’m sure you noticed.” Milo replied, leaning back a bit, and when the fleeing vampire girl got within arm’s reach, he casually swung out, clocking the her in the eye so hard that she fell backwards, landing flat on her ass. It didn’t seem to phase her much, she glared up at Milo, flashing vampiric teeth at him. Milo sank back in his seat, entirely unimpressed. He picked up his third graveyard of the evening and began to sip at it. “When you’ve been around that shit all your life, you recognize it pretty quick.” 

“Hm, guess you’ve got me there.” Carly said. “Grab your drink.” She warned him, as she picked up the bottle she’d been about to pour along with the chilled glass.

Milo picked up his glass, leaning backwards with it as Damien slammed the man he was fighting down on the counter a few feet away. Damien slid him across it wild west style and dropped him on the ground beside Milo.

“Damien!” Carly scolded him. “You almost knocked over the goldschlager.” She chided gently.

“Sorry, honey, I’m almost done..” Damien replied, his voice sounding a tad harried. At some point he’d lost his jacket, and he was looking much more disheveled than he knew the man liked. That was pretty satisfying to Milo. He watched as Damien grabbed the vampire girl by her overly pronounced collar and turned her around, slamming her into the bar. She snapped at him, trying to get in a bite with those vicious looking fangs, but Damien had been doing this for centuries. He held her down by her throat so that she couldn’t snap at him again, as he began to question her. The vampire girl screamed, casting out her influence to snag another innocent victim to play her defender. Caught in her web, another man came up behind Damien, with a chair raised up in his hands, ready to bring it down onto Damien’s head.

Carly noticed the threat before Damien could, and shot Milo a look. “I’ll be right back.” She whispered, as she reached under the bar and came back up with a weapon. A long, silver dagger, that reeked of holy magic, like she’d recently had it blessed. The static feeling that came off of it was insane. 

That girl may be a human, but she clearly knew her shit about the paranormal. Well, he supposed she had to, especially if she was running a bar that catered in particular to the vampires.

Milo watched as the Carly launched herself over the bar with the kind of reckless abandon that he would typically expect to see out of Mark, charging into a fight without any kind of thought for self-preservation. It was something that would frequently send Milo into heart palpitations. But again, it really seemed like this girl knew what she was doing. She grabbed the chair from the approaching man and used her grip on it to shove the man back, sending him stumbling back into the crowd, taking down a couple of unprepared humans with him. For whatever reason, that was what sent the bar into a free for all. Other bar patrons began to fight. Some of the others just turned to leave, making for whatever exit they were closest too. Someone else hit the fire alarm. 

Milo saw a man jump over the counter and begin to grab booze off of the shelves, clearly planning on grabbing it and making a run for it. That was a line too far for Milo. He stood up, without much trouble, just a hint of a fog going from slamming three Graveyards within a few minutes, and leapt over the bar himself. 

He cleared his throat beside the shirtless thief who abruptly paused, looking up to Milo. 

“And what are we doing?” Milo demanded, shooting him the most disapproving look he could muster, as the man fumbled to think of an excuse.

“Uh.” The man got out, but he clearly hadn’t thought that far ahead. He was drunk and staggering, and probably legitimately thought he’d be able to sneak out with all of that booze, like no one else would notice. He hadn’t expected Milo to be standing guard. “I was just… making sure it wasn’t stolen.” 

“Is that right?” Milo responded, to just about the lamest excuse he’d ever heard. “Well why don’t you put them back then?” he suggested. 

The man stared at him for a moment, then stared at his haul, like he was considering disobeying Milo and making a run for it. Fortunately, common sense prevailed and the man, defeated, began to sheepishly put the liquor back. Once he was done and the liquor was replaced, Milo grabbed him by his ear and led him out from behind the bar, heading for one of the exits.

The man actually cried a little when Milo tossed him out on his rear. 

When he turned back around, most of the bar’s patrons had found an exit, except for the few who stuck around to try and get their cheap shots in at Carly and Damien. The vamp girl was cowering in the corner, no longer trying to escape, but clearly putting on an act all the same. He could feel the influence she was exerting on the men nearby, making them feel like they had to protect her. She was apparently the one with the information, so she was the one Milo decided to approach. 

He cleared his throat, pulled out the dagger from his jacket, tossed it in the air in a circular motion and caught it, putting on a show. That made the woman go from merely acting afraid, to actually being afraid. He felt the woman’s vampiric influence press against him for a moment, before she stopped. She blinked, giving him a stunned expression, like she just couldn’t believe her powers didn’t work against him.

Milo smirked. “That’s right, princess.” He said smugly, as he bent down and grabbed her by the collar. “Not gonna work on me. I’ve been around the block far too many times, and I know all of your kind’s tricks.” 

Damien ducked a hit, waving an arm out in Milo’s direction. “Don’t let her go!” He warned Milo. “We need her!”

“Calm down, I got her.” Milo said as he pulled her to her feet. 

Damien finished off the man he was dealing with, looking over to where Carly was knocking out the last of the men under the girl’s influence. He pointed to the still screaming fire alarm, flashing brightly, almost to the point where it hurt to look at. “Can you take care of that before the cops swarm us?” he asked.

“Already on it.” Carly replied, as she ran to turn off the alarm. 

Once it was quieter in there, with only the vampire themed electronica playing in the background, Damien and Milo were finally able to concentrate on their captive. 

“Alright, then, any other tricks up your sleeve, you manipulative little bint.” Damien began, when the woman suddenly screamed. She thrashed violently, trying to tug herself out of Milo’s hold.

“I don’t know what you want from me.” The vampire girl shouted at them. 

“That’s a lie.” Damien said. “Look, this doesn’t have to be painful for you. We already know where they are. We already know you’re a honeypot, helping to lure victims there. All we need from you, is an estimate of how many vampires are guarding that place, and a way to sneak in.” 

“I don’t give a fuck about sneaking in.” Milo muttered, thinking that Damien wouldn’t hear him. He should have known better, though. Damien shot him a glare. 

“Sledge-hammer, scalpel.” Damien said, pointing to Milo and then himself once again. He then looked back to the vampire. “I know you have this knowledge. Give it to us, and maybe we’ll let you live.”

The girl’s eyes flicked back and forth between them, as if trying to gauge their sincerity in the threats. “There is no way in.” she told them firmly. “All their entrances are guarded, and you have to be one of them to gain entry.” she told him. 

“She talking?” Carly asked in a quiet tone, approaching from behind Milo. Milo looked over his shoulder at the girl, without releasing his hold on the vampire.

“We’re working on her.” Milo said, giving the woman a hard shake for her trouble.. 

“Come on, I know you’re probably fucked up on some real shady blood, but use that addled brain of yours and think.” Damien ordered, reaching down and grabbing the girl by her collar, nearly yanking her out of Milo’s hold. It wasn’t even the worst that Damien could do to her, but for whatever reason, she seemed to shrink.

“Look.” She tried, her voice going from firm to negotiating. “They’re going to kill me if I give you anything more than that. There’s hundreds of them.” She said. “They’ve been taking out all the hunters in town, they’ve become experts at finding people, humans, hunters, other vampires. If you go down there, they’ll catch you, and it won’t matter if I run, they’ll catch me too-” 

Milo rolled his eyes. “That sounds like a personal problem-” He began to put in his own two cents, when Carly cleared her throat behind him.

“Wait.” Carly seemed to catch onto something, interrupting his and Damien’s display. “What did she say about the hunters?” She asked, looking between Milo and Damien.

Damien grit his teeth for a moment, like this was information he didn’t want her to have. He seemed to come around fairly quickly, though, as he noticed Carly glaring at him. “She said they’re taking them out. All of the hunters in Los Angeles.” He didn’t look like he wanted to admit that. However, he seemed to realize, and Milo was beginning to understand this too, you just didn’t lie to this woman. She would find out.

“Like Virgil.” Carly whispered the name. She looked to the floor for a moment, putting two and two together. Then she looked back to Damien. “You lost Virgil, didn’t you?” She asked, looking irritated. Angry. 

Milo also looked to Damien, interested. Of course, Milo knew the answer to that question, but he wasn’t about to step in and dig Damien out of this hole he’d apparently cast himself into. And Damien, Damien who he had always known to be the epitome of masculinity, seemed to shrink in the face of her anger. Milo almost wished he had a bowl of popcorn. He had the feeling he was seriously going to enjoy this. 

“I didn’t lose him, I know where he is.” Damien said, completely failing at soothing the girl

“It  _ is  _ Virgil! You lost Virgil! After I asked you to protect him!” Carly began to shout him down. Damien actually winced. 

Milo struggled not to start laughing. He had to bite down on his bottom lip to keep the noise from escaping.

“I didn’t lose him.” Damien replied, putting a hand out placatingly. “I’m actively in the process of getting him back.”

“You weren’t supposed to let this happen. Virgil was hurt!” Carly continued. “He was a beautiful, somber,  **_naive_ ** , innocent soul and you let him get  _ taken _ ? By a bunch of  _ vampires _ ?? Knowing that he’s a  _ virgin _ ??”

“Carly he’s an adult, and his injury healed three years ago.” Damien pointed out. “I have to let him do some things on his own. I just didn’t realize this case he was working on was so…” He waved an arm in the air, trying to explain things to Carly. “Massive?” 

He glanced back down to the captive vampire. “How many vampires do you think are involved again?”

“Hundreds.” The woman whispered. “Maybe even a thousand, I don’t know.” 

“You let a thousand fucking vampires snatch that beautiful baby boy and take him…” 

“That’s not… That is not what happened, Carly. I didn’t  _ let  _ anything happen.” Damien sighed. “I thought he was going to be fine, I was in the mindset that this was a small group of vampires acting up, it wasn’t until I ran into that gang in Tijuana that I had any idea that it could be more than that…” 

“So fucking help me Damien, if anything happens to Virgil you can forget any idea of having a relationship with me, or kissing me, or any of the other flirty things I alluded to before I discovered the extent of your fuck up.” Carly told him, and even Milo had to wince at that, as much as he was thoroughly entertained by all of this. There was no greater blow to a man’s ego than being shut down like that. In front of his friend, too. “Let’s finish up with this bitch and let’s go.” She demanded.

Damien blinked at the implication. “Do you mean to tell me…”

“I’m going with you. And you’d better pray that they haven’t done anything to hurt my Virgil.” Carly hissed at him.

Milo glanced between Carly and Damien, in the somewhat awkward silence that managed to fill the space after. 

“I mean.” Milo said after a moment. “Mark’s with him. So at the very least, he isn’t alone.”

Carly shot him an irritated look. “I don’t know a Mark. Is that supposed to make me feel better?” She asked.

“I mean, Mark has a self-sacrificial streak a mile long. It doesn’t make  _ me  _ feel any better, but if you’re worried about Virgil, then at the very least he’s in good hands.” Milo offered.

Carly’s face softened a little at that. “Mark a friend of yours?” She asked.

“My incredibly cute, but sometimes incredibly dumb husband, actually.” Milo replied.

“Ah.” She said sympathetically. “Was Damien supposed to be watching him too?” 

“Jesus, Carly, give me a break.” Damien put in.

“No, you zip it.” Carly snapped, moving to stand in front of the vampire Damien was interrogating. She grabbed her by her shirt collar, ripping her out of Milo’s restraining arms, and dragged her over to the bar, violently slamming her head down on it, hard enough to draw a pained scream from the creature. “Now you listen here, doll.” She said, apparently done with all the talking Damien had been doing.

Milo jumped in surprise, and Damien shifted again. Milo shot him a knowing look. “Did you just get turned on?” He hissed.

“Shush.” Damien hissed back. They watched as the vampire woman cried pathetically and slid to the ground curling up into the fetal position.

“You’re going to tell me everything I need to know about this place.” Carly told the woman, her face twisting up in a sneer. “How to get in there, and how to get out of there, with Virgil  _ and  _ Mark safely. I promise you if you lie to us and we find out, you won’t have to worry about those vampires, you’re only going to have me to worry about.” She fumed. “You saw how many of your kind were here in my bar, didn’t you? You see a single one of them lift a finger to help you fight me when they were here? No, because they fucking know better.” She continued. 

“Trust me, babe, you don’t want to play these cute little games with me. I know ways of making your kind suffer. So tell me what I need to know, or I will string you up in my basement for weeks. Months, even. Keep you alive on dodgy blood. Let the hunger hit you real good. And while you’re weak and dying and unable to do anything, I’ll test out all kinds of theories on what makes your kind tick. See what I can remove without killing you. We’ll have all kinds of fun together, baby, just you… and me.” She promised. “Isn’t that what you wanted, when you were flirting with me earlier at the bar, just a little one on one time? Well I know how to deliver on that, honey.” Carly practically hissed at the woman.

The vampire looked to Carly in horror. Then, she finally began to talk. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, guys, I know this chapter took forever, and it doesn't even go as far as I wanted it to go. I feel like this is a really shitty chapter to come back with, but like I said, I have a good excuse. 
> 
> So first, the last chapter I posted was actually during the finals week for my summer school class, so there's that.
> 
> Then, I ended up with a health problem, and I've had to spend a lot of time running around for the doctor, and just generally not feeling all that great.
> 
> But third, and most importantly honestly, I got a new foster kitten! And as a foster, we won't be keeping her, we're only caring for her until we can find her her furever home. And this poor baby came to us severely underweight, covered in fleas, with an upper respiratory infection, and diarrhea. All things that can kill a kitten without diligent care. So I've spent the past three weeks essentially nursing her back to health, staying up late with her, giving her more baths than any kitten should have, giving her medicines, fixing up her food with a probiotic to help settle her stomach. Because she wasn't gaining weight with the diarrhea. 
> 
> If we hadn't rescued her, she probably wouldn't be alive right now. 
> 
> Also there's something else about this kitten I should mention. And I don't know if I did this to her or not, but... she really fucking [loves watching Mark.](https://www.instagram.com/p/B0g8SYeAgBt/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet)
> 
> I can explain.
> 
> During that first weekend we had her I was very religious about combing her fur every night, picking fleas off of her with those metal combs, sometimes picking them off with my hands. Fleas are nasty, and they can be lethal when you have a sick kitten. And naturally she hates the baths, and her little cries hurt my heart, so on night three I put my laptop on with a Mark video I hadn't gotten to watch yet (because I'd been nursing a sick kitten,) and as I was combing her I noticed she'd calmed down, she was letting me work... and that's when I noticed she was paying really close attention to the [video.](https://www.instagram.com/p/B0X6HsFg49z/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet)
> 
> And I was like huh. So I slowly began to introduce her to other things, like Alice Cooper, Miraculous Ladybug, etc, but nothing really holds her attention the way [Mark does.](https://www.instagram.com/p/B0mtksWgqZz/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet)
> 
> So yeah, [our foster kitten is a Markiplier fan,](https://www.instagram.com/p/B1Ab-EJgVrZ/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet) and it might be my fault. 
> 
> On that note, she has improved a lot, so she is out of quarantine, and we're beginning the process introducing her to our [resident cats](https://www.instagram.com/p/B1QApRygL2p/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet), who will hopefully help teach her how to cat.
> 
> Now, we're not really advertising her for adoption just yet, because a friend of the family has already expressed interest in possibly adopting her in a couple of months, once she's a little more stable. (This poor woman's been through a lot, so we don't mind watching the foster baby for a while until she's ready for her.) However, you can still follow along with this baby's adventures if you like, by following the Instagram hashtag #diamonddinah . Or I guess you could go to my instagram that all these videos are linked to. Just be aware that that is my personal instagram, and as such some of the stuff I post on there might not be entirely PC, or could potentially offend someone. But I try to just keep all of that shit in my stories, so if you're worried about that, just avoid my stories, they all get deleted in 24 hours anyways, so who cares? Or that's how I see it. If it turns out that the friend of the family can't take her after all, we will be adopting her out to interested parties living in the Southern CA area, and we don't ask for a lot, we obviously don't make money fostering kittens, and we don't really ask for money from our adopters, just demonstrate that you can properly care for a kitten, and that's about it. But all of that info will be coming out on that account. 
> 
> Okay, hopefully, next chapter won't take as long as this one did. 
> 
> Also, I feel the need to mention that Carly is not my OC. She belongs to my talented friend also on this site. You can find her [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GenuineAmericanGirl/pseuds/GenuineAmericanGirl)


	4. Killer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of these days I'm going to be able to post regularly again. I do hope you all can enjoy this chapter in the meantime.

Mark was so groggy when he finally came to, and it was Virgil’s voice in his ear that woke him. The man’s gentle hand against his cheek. He could still feel that yeah, Virgil was still going, he could feel his own hips jerking up with the movement. It was second nature with him at this point, and it didn’t seem to matter if it was Virgil or Milo doing the fucking, his body reacted the same. His dick was rock hard pressed against Virgil’s stomach. Though waking up like this was strange and frightening, in a way, Virgil’s calm demeanor always managed to soothe him. 

Well, Virgil was a little preoccupied right then, and he wasn’t acting particularly calm. He was rather a little frantic at the moment, but he was at least appreciative of the man being there with him.

At least he’d remembered his request and kept going. Mark didn’t know if it would actually help him in the long run; he had a feeling he’d never quite feel like he wasn’t cheating. Mark grunted at a particularly hard thrust and he glanced up locking eyes with the other man, who was looking a little worried, and he was panting, and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He seemed to be biting down on his bottom lip pretty hard, the teeth digging into flesh just sharply enough that Mark worried he'd cut his lip open. Mark raised up a shaky hand, pressing his thumb against Virgil's chin, trying to stop him from damaging himself. Yeah, kind of a weird thing to worry about when the other man was fucking your brains out, but Mark was a little short circuited at that point anyways.

To his surprise, Virgil suddenly stopped everything. He stopped moving, his hips stopped slamming against his, that slide of the man inside of him paused, half way in. Mark was wondering if maybe the man had misinterpreted the action. He was about to apologize when Suddenly, Virgil's arm slid under his shoulders and Mark found himself being lifted up for a hard, breathtaking kiss. 

Mark squeaked a little in protest, but Virgil held him close and tight against his chest. Hell, Virgil was strong. Not as strong as Milo, obviously, but for a human, hella strong. Even still Mark knew he could have pushed back. He  _ should  _ have pushed back 

But some warring voice in his head was telling him to pull the other man closer.

That command he could not resist.

~~

Mark zoned out again sometime after that. The next time he woke Virgil's hand was wrapped around him, encouraging him to come and Mark was helpless but to obey, coming with a low pitched wail to spray against Virgil's stomach. As his body spasmed around Virgil's he could feel the hot rush of the other man finding his own release, buried deep inside. The hot, wet rush against his insides that made his body shiver. After that he just felt insensate, almost like he was having an out of body experience. He’d never had one before, but this strange, sort of cut off feeling he was experiencing was sort of what he imagined it would be like. 

He was probably just terribly fucked up from the black outs. All this combined vampiric influence. Virgil had explained it to him a little, and it almost sounded the way he’d heard other people describe the effect some roofies had. 

Virgil went to pull out, moving a little too quickly for Mark’s tastes and it drew a hurt whimper out of him that he didn’t mean to let out. He sort of hoped that Virgil wouldn’t hear it, but of course he did, Virgil was always terribly observant when you didn’t want him to be. 

“Mark?”

Virgil’s voice was gentle, stirring and sweet but Mark just felt like hell, with the soreness in his limbs, the pounding ache reverberating around his skull, that empty, aching sort of fucked out feeling he sometimes had after sex. Speaking of which…

Mark glanced up to see Virgil still sort of hovering over him, still kneeling between his parted thighs as he looked over him with such concern. His hand was pressed against his cheek as Virgil seemed to examine his eyes. 

"Yeah?" Mark replied, as he shifted uncomfortably under Virgil. The other man seemed to start at the movement underneath him, pulling back to give him room to sit up. 

Mark was exceedingly careful, pulling his legs up and pressing them together, folding them underneath them as he wiped a hand across his face. He could feel the slick evidence of what had happened sliding from between his thighs, probably staining the bed and making him feel dirty. 

Virgil sat at the end of the bed studying Mark as the man tried to get his bearings. When Mark was more or less together, Virgil went to hand Mark his pants, which he accepted gratefully, and both men went about the business of getting themselves decent. 

"You did end up zoning out." Virgil finally spoke up. He was looking away, like he couldn't even lock eyes with him after this. Mark thought that was odd. Why couldn’t he even look at him? Was he disgusted by what they’d done? That was kind of an emotional thought for Mark to be having, but he thought he could be excused for being a little emotional right then.

"I figured." Mark said, breathing out slowly. “It’s getting worse.” Mark watched as Virgil nodded absently. 

This was the most awkward after sex he’d ever had. 

“Sorry if this was bad for you. Your first time shouldn’t be like that.” Mark acknowledged when the silence became unbearable. 

“Jesus, Mark.” Virgil said, giving a little sigh. “It’s not that. I had literally no expectations for this, this was my first time, remember? I was doing my best not to get carried away, and I don’t know if you realize this, but you’re hot, okay, even when you’re passed out on my dick.” Virgil said, shooting an almost frustrated look in Mark’s direction.

Okay. That was a lot to unpack. And Mark wasn’t terribly sure where to even start. “Virg…?”

“Mark.” Virgil said his name again, firmly. “The point is, I put you through this. I did this. And you might be insisting to me now that it was your idea, but I’m the one with the experience in this. And it’s like, there are so many vampires around here, and they don’t even really need to try to exert their influence over you, this place is thick with it. It’s like a drug, it warps your brain, makes you do things you’d never normally want to do, and I knew that, and I took advantage of it.” He said. 

“You didn’t take advantage of me!” Mark argued, and the pains from their intimacy seemed to vanish as the adrenaline from this conversation began to kick in. “I literally told you to put your dick in me. It doesn’t get more explicit than that!”

“You say that, while you’re zoning out every couple of minutes! Once you get out of here and you have a few weeks to clear your head, how do you know you’re still going to feel that way? If you can’t give consent when you’re too drunk, how are we supposed to consider the state you’re in right now totally sober?” he asked.

“Because I spelled it out for you in very specific language.” Mark said. “Just because I’m passing out every couple of minutes doesn’t mean I’m not capable of making decisions anymore, you know? I’m just over here living out someone’s 50 First Dates fantasy…” 

“You have a husband and child.” Virgil pointed out to him. “What makes you think that in your right mind you would have picked me over them?” He asked.

“It’s not that I’m picking you over them. I still love them. They are everything to me.” Mark said, but his voice wavered a little. “I just didn’t want to see you hurt. Or die.” Mark told him. “I get that Milo’s going to be fucking pissed, and Jenn won’t understand for a while, but she probably won’t be happy with me either but…” Mark blinked a little, remembering then. “And well, well what about you? You always talk about that girl you dated last, what about her?” He asked. “What makes what I did any different from what you did?” 

“Because the vampires can’t influence me.” Virgil replied. “I’ve been around it since before I was born, it can’t warp me. I’m used to it. And besides, me and that girl,” He paused, just briefly, taking a deep, stuttering breath. “We just didn’t work out. The timing wasn’t right, and I mean. We’re still really good friends, but we’re not that way with each other.” he said. He looked away as he spoke next. “It still feels like you foolishly picked me over them. I’m just another human, my life is…” Virgil sighed. “I’ve made mistakes before, I would deserve this. To die like this.” He said, nodding like he’d made his point.

“Virg…” Mark said sadly. “What makes you think you deserve this?” He asked. “I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it. You didn’t take advantage of me.”

“Yes. I did.” Virgil told him just as firmly.

Mark glowered at him for a moment. “And what makes you think that? Explain it to me better.” He demanded, and he had a whole lecture prepared to give him. In the end, he didn’t get to use it.

Virgil stood from his seat, jabbed an arm in Mark’s direction, and practically shouted. ‘Because I loved you before!”

And just like that, the silence was heavy between them once more. Virgil sighed, wiping both hands over his face. “I loved you… I love you.” He sighed. 

Mark felt pinned to the bed, and Virgil wasn’t anywhere near him. “Virg?” he asked, after a moment. 

Virgil sighed, looking back to Mark. "What?" He asked, tone resigned. 

"Is that why you think you took advantage?" Mark asked him. 

"You can't tell me that it’s not." Virgil insisted. "And knowing that… that you're technically drugged right now, knowing how I've pined for you." Virgil said. "The right thing for me to have said earlier would have been no."

“I’m not drugged.” Mark protested. "And… I kind of wish you'd said something before." Mark told him softly. "I mean, it wouldn’t have changed anything, I still wouldn’t have let you… Virgil I… I have a husband. And a kid." He said, before kind of rolling his eyes at himself. "Okay. That's obvious. But I think maybe we could have handled this differently." Mark shrugged a little. "I'm not entirely sure how. Because there's still no damned way I'd ever let you die. But… something." Mark frowned.

Virgil nodded. "And I'm not trying to take you from your family. I don’t want to be a homewrecker. I know this is wrong." Virgil told him. "I am in the wrong." 

"Virg. Stop." Mark tried. "Look I… if things were different, if I didn't have Milo, or Jenn, or I don't know. I always thought I was totally straight before meeting him too. So you would have your work cut out for you but I mean, you're such a good guy, i might have given you a shot." Mark said to him, and he was trying to do this in the nicest way possible. But that was a little hard to do, shutting down a man and shattering his heart. And the devastated look on Virgil's face was about what he expected it to be too.

"I should never have said anything." Virgil said, as he stared at the floor. "I'm just being stupid. Making things harder on the both of us." 

"Virgil don’t. You're not being stupid." Mark told him. "It's just how you feel. And I would never invalidate your feelings like that, telling you they’re stupid, or scolding you for feeling the way you do." He said. 

Virgil nodded softly. "So you don't blame me for-"

Mark shrugged. "You can't help how you feel." He said. "It's not like this is the first time I've dealt with someone who thought they had a crush on me." Hell, Milo had been one of them, at one point. An overly obsessed stalker. And somehow, despite that knowledge that had been the man he chose to marry. He was a good man, though, he honestly was. Mark just kind of had to retrain him…

Or had he really retrained him? Maybe Milo had trained Mark.

That thought just agitated Mark. He'd had a friend casually suggest that he'd had stockholm syndrome and he'd shut the man down harshly. But… was he really happy in his marriage? He wasn’t sure. Lately he’d felt pretty alone. He’d begun to rely on people not his husband a hell of a lot more whenever he needed help. He knew and tried to be understanding of when Milo wasn’t around. He needed to work, and the man had a hard time staying in one place, anyways. They had a kid to put through college. And Mark didn’t give a fuck who accused him of selling out, selling out was fucking smart when you looked at the price tag that came attached to American universities. But the thing about that was, just on Mark’s paycheck,  _ they didn’t need to worry about that.  _ He and Milo were doing fine. 

So with that in mind...

Why was Milo spending so much time in San Diego? 

Was he cheating on him? Or was Mark projecting because of what he’d just done with Virgil? 

Mark glanced over to notice Virgil kind of staring at him, and Mark remembered. Oh, yeah. He didn’t have time to dwell on it now. He was in the middle of a dire situation here. 

He shook off this new and wholly unwelcome train of thought and looked back to the other man, who was waiting for him to speak up again. “It’s okay, I’m not- well maybe I am a little- I don’t mean to keep zoning out on you. That time wasn’t even the vampire voodoo... At least I don’t think it was.” he said, looking very confused right then. Fortunately, Virgil nodded. 

“You just seemed to be very deep in thought.” Virgil told him.

“Oh. Well.” Mark just kind of shrugged. “Next time I do that do me a favor and shake me. Last thing I need to do is give myself a complex.” he said. 

  
Virgil raised an eyebrow at that but he eventually nodded. Both men sat in silence for a moment. Until, abruptly, Mark looked to Virgil and asked. “So was it good for you?” 

Every man wants to know that they were good in bed.

The other man gave him a look of dumbfounded surprise, his mouth falling open as he tried to stammer out a reply. But before he could answer, the door opened and immediately Virgil took up a protected stance in front of Mark. Mark for himself knew there wasn’t much he could do. He stood and reached out, grabbing Virgil’s arm and grasping it tightly. He knew it wouldn’t do much to protect the other man but goddammit did he want to try.

The vampire from before entered the room, followed by a few of his lackeys, and fuck he did not look happy. It was like he sensed the change before he even entered the room. Mark's heart began to beat wildly in his chest as he looked them over in turn.

"So." The vampire said. "Seems like the two of you got clever in our absence."

He began to take a few heavy, thudding steps towards them, the man's boots plodding loudly. Virgil moved backwards, keeping Mark behind him as he did, trying to create space between them and the approaching thug. 

"It's not going to make a difference." The vampire said, reaching out to flick a strand of Virgil's long hair back over his shoulder. Virgil didn't budge, but Mark felt his heart sink into his stomach. He gripped Virgil's arm even harder, so much that he had to be hurting the other man, but Virgil didn’t so much as flinch. If anything he squared up, tipping his chin up bravely to show his defiance.

One of the other vampires cleared his throat. “To be fair, a lot of them aren’t going to be terribly happy. They paid an awful lot of money for the Virgin Hunter…” 

“Shut up.” The first vampire sighed. “Goddammit. You’re not supposed to admit that in front of the…” He paused then, seeming to realize something, then leaned over and just smacked the other vampire, who seemed to cower back appropriately. “Shut up.”

It was about then that Mark realized they were being held by the vampire world’s equivalent of the Marx brothers. Dangerous and dumb. 

A few more vampires entered the room then, and the first vampire looked them over. “Get them both tied up. The Elites...” The vampire spat out sarcastically, “Will be here at any moment.” He paused, giving Mark and Virgil another look over. “Then the fun can really begin.”

As the vampires began to approach, Mark tightened his hold on Virgil’s arm, whole body tensing as if preparing for a fight. But Virgil glanced back to Mark, and the look on his face was somber, yet somehow comforting.

“Mark.” Virgil told him.

“I don’t want you to die.” Mark insisted, trying to tug Virgil in tighter, trying to hold the man to his chest, to protect him, somehow..

“It’s going to be okay.” Virgil insisted, stepping back again from the approaching vampires placing a hand over Mark’s on his arm. Mark could tell that he just needed a few more seconds, but he didn’t know of anything he could have done to buy them more time. “Whatever happens out there, it’s going to be okay.” 

For once, Mark didn’t believe him, and he couldn’t stop himself from trying to fight when they were finally pulled apart.

~~

“Why didn’t you bring Griever.” Carly asked him, almost conversationally. Almost like she wasn’t terribly upset with him for losing Virgil, which Damien was choosing to take as a good omen.

Damien kept his eyes trained on the road as he answered. “At home.” he mentioned. 

“Why at home? Don’t you think it would be helpful to have him?” She asked innocently.

“I try not to bring him on missions where he could be hurt.” Damien answered.

“Which is horseshit.” Milo unhelpfully chimed in from the backseat. Damien cast a glare at the man through the rearview mirror. Milo wasn’t terribly drunk, but he was still giving off vibes of it. All Damien had wanted was for the god to not be so uptight on this rescue. He knew all too well how the man could be when it came to Mark, and Damien wasn’t in the mood to be sniped at all night. The jury was still out on whether or not that had been a good choice. Milo had his arms crossed over his chest, chin tilted at a severe, upwards angle, and he seemed to be watching the lights flicker across the ceiling as the car sped by. “He literally always does this. There’s a chance of death and he leaves the powerful beast with jaws of steel at home.” 

“I mean, I get it, I would be devastated if anything happened to Griever.” Carly spoke up. “He’s a such a good puppy.” 

“Puppy.” Milo snorted. “He’s three hundred years old, and a familiar. If he’s wounded, it’ll affect him less than us.” Milo continued.

“I don’t think I like your friend anymore.” Carly said a bit stiffly, directing the icy words in Damien’s direction.

“I promise he’s nicer when…” Damien paused, really thinking it over. When was he nice exactly? Ah, right. “He’s nicer when Mark’s around.” he realized. “And Mark’s with Virgil currently so you know. Problem solved, we’re going to pick them both up. Two birds, one stone.” 

Damien ended up being the driver after all, and it didn’t matter all that much that he had been drinking along with the rest of them. He had a pretty good alcohol tolerance, for an immortal human. Besides, he was the only one who knew where they were going, Milo wasn’t drunk per se, but he was walking a little weirdly, and Carly only drove in Los Angeles when she had to, so that basically meant Damien was driving. He did give very brief consideration to just teleporting the three of them there, but he knew that would take a shitload of magic, and he didn’t particularly trust Milo alone with Carly while he was passed out in recovery from the massive drain it was going to be. Milo was his friend and he loved him like a brother, but his and Carly’s two polar personalities were going to grate, he could tell before they’d even met. 

Still, it was kind of nice to be with Carly outside of the bar, even if she seemed pretty focused on Virgil just then. The moments that Milo was quiet and brooding in the back it sort of reminded him of their adventure a few years back. Him and Carly alone in the Anza Borrego desert, searching for the weapon that had cursed Milo. The two of them together, brainstorming, coming up with various strategies to try and find it. They’d shared meals together, searched through what felt like every inch of that godforsaken place. She’d kept him company, long into the night, talking him through his misery when things were at their worst. He still wished he could have been the one to find it, but having her support made his failure sting a little less.

He looked over his shoulder to look at her, kind of half-smiling at the memory. But the look Carly was giving him in return was anything but pleased. 

Okay, she was still mad that he lost Virgil. 

Damien quickly focused back on the road.

“How much longer?” Carly asked him. 

“Couple of minutes but…” Traffic wasn’t terrible this late in the evening (Early in the morning?) so he quickly spared her a glance. “If you’re worried, I can tell that they’re fine.” He tried to be reassuring. 

“How do you know?”

“I have a link to him.” Damien told her. “Him and Mark. The both of them. Doesn’t tell me everything, but I can tell that they’re okay. Probably a little beaten up, and scared, understandably, but they’re still alive.” 

“Does Virgil know about his link to you?” Milo asked curiously.

Damien sighed, because Milo was just sitting back there, drunkenly, giving away all of his secrets, to the only girl he had ever really cared about since his mother. A psychiatrist would probably have something to say about that, but since when had he ever cared about that? And yes, Cersa had been a good friend, and more so partner in crime, but with Carly had always been different. He actually wanted to impress her. He  _ cared  _ about her.

“No.” Damien finally answered. Carly perked her head up a little.

“You didn’t even get his consent to cast a spell like that on him?” She asked, looking a little disturbed.

“I kind of… no?” Damien said. “If I’d asked his permission, he wouldn’t have let me do it.” He pointed out. “Then where would we be?”

“I mean…” Carly seemed to think things over, cocking her head to the side. “I suppose it’s a good thing. Without it we wouldn’t know where they are, or that they’re in trouble…” She reasoned.

“But you should have gotten his consent! Just like you should have gotten Mark's consent to take over the link!” Milo scolded him way too gleefully.

Damien shot an icy look at the rearview mirror, figuring that Milo could probably see it anyways. “Tell me all about the consent Mark gave you way back when you first met.” He said a bit pointedly. Yeah, at this point, most of Milo's friends and family knew the story, and everyone had varying opinions on the matter. That just kind of happened when your sister was a loudmouth fertility witch. Milo snorted 

"Touché.” Milo replied flippantly. Damien saw, out of the corner of his eye, Carly levelling a look in Milo's direction that very clearly stated what she thought of him, and Damien decided yeah, left on their own devices these two absolutely would not get along. The same way Carly didn't care for the Boss, and let him know it, whenever he was crawling at the bar. This was why Damien struggled so hard to keep the various aspects of his life separate from each other. By his own nature and for the sake of what he did, he found it pretty easy to talk to a variety of people. That didn't mean that those people would easily get along with each other.

Things were quiet for a while more.

Milo finally cleared his throat, apparently tired of the silence. "So how long have you

two been a thing?" He asked, and before he could answer Carly snapped.

"We're not." She protested immediately, and the ice in her tone Damien hurt him deep in his soul. But, then her demeanor softened, as she continued. "We've been friends for about four years, though."

"Just friends?" Milo seemed to need to clarify.

"Yes." Damien said with a sigh. "Not for lack of trying." He added, a little more under his breath.

Carly’s mouth dropped slightly, looking to Damien over her shoulder. “Look, it just hasn’t been the right time for me.” She said to him. “I… I do like you, Damien, a lot, but I run a business, I don’t have a ton of time to be… in a relationship.” she said. 

“An illegal, underground vampire bar.” Milo pointed out. “Sounds like she’s a little afraid of commitment, my friend.” He said to Damien. He looked back to Carly then. “Carly. You could make time to screw around with Damien. Put on something nice, take him to dinner and romance him, he’s a guy, it wouldn’t be that hard. I can’t think of a more deserving trickster.” 

“Hey!” Carly snapped, her head whipping around to look at Milo again. “We all have to make a living somehow.” She said. “And besides, we’re more under the table than underground. I still pay taxes, you know.” She said. “And getting good, quality blood from reputable dealers is expensive, and sometimes it can be hard when you have to negotiate through a lawyer.” She continued. “Anyways, shut up.” She said, glaring a little when Milo laughed. 

“Damien.” Milo said, tone chiding. “This is the girl, right?” Milo asked him. “She’s the reason you allow Virgil to follow you around like a clueless lost puppy.” he said. 

“Yes.” Damien answered immediately. “But, I mean, what can I say? The kid’s grown on me.” Damien said, and he realized a second later just how natural it was for him to admit to that. Carly looked to him, surprised. 

“Really?” She asked. 

“Well… yeah.” Damien replied, after a moment. “I do legitimately like spending time with the kid.’ he answered, like this was a revelation to himself too. “Huh.” he said, after a moment. 

“Oh, gag me.” Milo interrupted the moment a few seconds later. 

“Don’t tempt me.” Damien snapped back, seriously rethinking his decision to relax the man with those drinks, as the hospital in question came into view. It was just off of the freeway, very easy to get to. Convenient for a tremendous gang of vampiric human traffickers, and business did look booming. Once Damien exited the freeway and turned down the correct road he realized pretty quickly how getting in was going to be an issue, just like the vampiric girl had said. 

She was probably half-way to Mexico by now. 

Damien drove past the building a little ways and parked out by the psychiatric building instead. A former branch to the old hospital, a block or so away from the main building, connected by one of those underground corridors that would allow them to transport bodies to and fro, without disturbing the living.There were a few vampires hanging out there, but not the crowd that would have been waiting for them back by the main hospital. Even then they seemed to clear out at the sight of Damien exiting the car. Didn't want any trouble, probably. Unfortunately, Damien was bringing a shitload of trouble with him, and half of it was currently drunk. 

Damien stood to get out of the car, and glanced back just in time to see Milo follow him, by climbing out of the window, instead of using the door. Damien stared at him for a moment, slowly shook his head, and looked to Carly instead.

"There should be an elevator in there we can take to the tunnel." Carly said, pointing out the main entrance to the building. 

"Man I love dungeon crawls." Damien said, using a term he thought he might have first heard from Mark. It felt appropriate though, for what they were about to do. "Bless those creepy abandoned tunnels under hospitals that lead to morgues. Bet it’s ripe with old-timey tuberculosis ghosts too." He said, looking over just in time for Carly to give him a look for his distasteful sense of humor.

"That hardly sounds like fun." Milo said from behind him, half pouting. "We're going to step through the door of an elevator and cross into a nightmare."

"Poetic. And more or less what we're doing." Carly replied. "Where'd you get it?"

"California Adventure's Tower of Terror." Milo shrugged. 

"Eccentric tastes as always my friend." Damien replied, as he took the first daring steps towards that building and the dangers that lay within. 

The psychiatric ward looked as abandoned inside as it did outside, with broken windows, graffiti marring rotting walls, which had already lost most of its old paint to peeling. The building almost mirrored the hospital, two grim twins in a bad part of town. Where if a person was murdered, no one would come forward to say they’d witnessed it. All the residents knew better. 

Carly, in a hurry to find her friend, shoved against one of the doors and pushed her way inside. Damien hissed a little, grabbing the door before it could completely slam closed behind her. 

“Carly!” he called after her. “Try not to go alone in there, okay?” 

“Maybe try to hurry up, old man.” She told him, but her tone was mostly playful. 

“We’re all going to need our shots after this.” Milo noted, as he entered the building after them and took a good look around. “And technically, I don’t even need them. It’s just gross here. Just think of all the different varieties of mold that’s bound to be growing here.” he hummed a little. 

“Yeah okay, coming from a guy who literally lived in a cave under the sea seventy percent of the time until Mark kicked your ass into a respectable being.” Damien said pointedly. Which was a little ironic, considering that he was typically the guy to complain about mild inconveniences, and Milo was usually the one giving him shit for it. Man, he hated Milo drunk.

“Not much of a problem in a highly saline environment.” Milo pointed out flippantly, as he carefully stepped over a piece of what looked suspiciously like support beam. Support beam that had tumbled through several floors from an upper level. That, Damien supposed, could only mean good things for them.

Finally, the three of them found the elevator in question. Or that is, what was left of it, which was actually just the shaft. The elevator cab had long since been removed, and all there was to get down was a rickety looking ladder that someone had welded to the side, probably not long after the actual elevator was removed. It went on for what looked like miles until it disappeared into the darkness. Even Carly’s weak phone light didn’t show where it ended.

Damien looked at it, then carefully traded looks with his companions. 

“Nope.” he decided, taking a step back. “Not a chance in hell. I’d rather let a rattler eat me, starting with my testicles.” he decided. 

“But Damien, we have to get down there somehow!” Carly said, her voice bordering on imploring. 

“That thing is not going to support the three of us, we’d get half-way down and it’ll start pulling from the wall.” He pushed it a bit with his toe, and it gave an unnerving creak. “No way. There’s got to be a staircase or something around here.”

“I’ll do it.” Milo shrugged. 

“That’s stupid.” Damien declared. “You don’t even know where that thing ends.” He said. “What if the ladder cuts off suddenly and you still have miles to go?” he asked. 

“Oh please, it’s not going to be miles.” Milo chuckled. “Anyways, if that’s where I have to go to get Mark back, that’s where I’m going.” Milo said.

“After you, then.” Damien replied. “If you happen to see the bottom let me know.”

“I’ll text you.” Milo said, looking a little pleased with himself. 

“Oh you finally learned how to use that feature. Cute. You only had it for a few years.” Damien teased him. “Try not to look so smug.” 

Milo continued to grin like an idiot as he went to the ladder, beginning to lower himself down. 

That left Carly and Damien alone, at the top, watching as Milo disappeared from their sight. 

Damien studied her for a good moment before asking. “Are you nervous?” 

“Not about the ladder. I’ve seen worse.” Carly shrugged, but, after a moment, she opened up. “Virgil’s my best friend. And to borrow a line from you…. I don’t have a lot of those.” She said to him. “If something happens to him I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” She gave Damien a more serious look. “He can’t die down there, he doesn’t deserve that.” She insisted. 

“He won’t die.” Damien said. “We’re going to get him. We’re so close right now, Carly.” He said, trying to reassure her. He gave her a little smile. “I don’t want him hurt either, you know? Him or Mark.” 

“Who is Mark?” Carly asked. “Keep hearing that name but I don’t know him… I think Virgil’s said something about him too?” 

“Milo’s boyfriend… husband, I keep forgetting they’re married now.” Damien shook his head. “Apparently famous but I have no idea what he does. He could be Kardashian famous for all I know.” 

Carly hummed a little, as she nodded her head. “Virgil thinks very highly of him.” 

Damien made kind of a strangled noise. “Yeah, Virgil has a crush on him, but I mean. Mark’s kind of a family guy. He and Milo have a kid together.” 

“Hm. Shame.” Carly replied. 

Damien took a moment to process what she was saying there. “Wait… are you meaning to tell me, that you think Virgil… and Mark…”

“Damien, don’t you agree that Virgil is a good man and deserves the world?” Carly asked him, in the airy sort of tone that said that she would accept no arguments to this fact.

He tread very carefully over what he was going to say next. “I mean, yeah, he’s a good kid, but Mark’s kind of taken.” Damien pointed out. “By that guy.” He said, pointing his index finger down the elevator shaft. “The dangerous, kind of crazy actual god climbing down the ladder. Who’s going to be waiting for us. Down there. With no witnesses.” He sensibly pointed out. 

“Look, I just think Virgil should be happy.” Carly said.

“Okay, but. Maybe we could find him a date with… I don’t know… anyone else?” He tried to suggest.

“Milo’s a prick. I heard what you said about the whole no consenting thing.” Carly told him. “Yeah, I was listening to that. You know who would never do any such thing to Mark? Virgil.” Carly said pointedly. 

“I…” Damien said, already kind of shaking his head. “Don’t think… that’s such a good… Carly…”

“Damien.” 

“BITCHES.” Milo called from below, his voice echoing and reverberating around the elevator shaft. “I found the bottom!” 

“I thought you said you were going to text!” Damien called back down there, rolling his eyes.

“Oops.” Called Milo, in a tone somewhat weaker. “Anyways it’s fine, just get down here. I think it should be able to handle you both.” 

“What goddamn miracle.” Damien replied. “Carly, I don’t care what he says, you take your time following me. Like, wait until I say it’s okay.” He moved then, beginning to get into position. 

“...hey.” Carly said softly. Damien raised an eyebrow at her, as she seemed to really consider what she was going to say next. Finally she just sighed, reaching out and grabbing him by the shirt collar, tugging him in for a quick kiss, just the faintest press of her lips against his. Featherlight and teasing. He was stunned at first, but he quickly fell into it, gently gripping her about her waist and tugging her close. All too quickly she pulled back though, releasing him. 

“What was that for?” Damien asked her, getting the faintest taste of some kind of fruit-flavored sweetness on his tongue after they parted. 

“I don’t know.” Carly replied, drawing her fingers gently through her own dark curls. “Just felt necessary, maybe. In case something happens. I don’t want… I’ve been kind of bitchy with you tonight and I didn’t want to leave it on that note.” She told him. “In case something happens to me and I don’t make it out of there.” 

Damien noted how she didn’t mention anything happening to him. It was like that was something she couldn’t process, the idea that he could be hurt or killed. And granted he was tough, but he knew how cavalier she could be about her own safety. 

Christ, her and Virgil and Mark needed to be in their own support group.

“We’re going to make it out of this together.” Damien told her firmly. “All of us.” 

“Promise?” Carly asked him. 

“Cross my black heart.” Damien assured her. 

That got him a little smile from her. “Your heart isn’t black, mine it.” 

“It’s not a competition, sweetheart.” 

Damien took his first few steps down the ladder and began to make his way down. 

It actually wasn’t a terrible climb, for the most part. For anyone less athletic than him it might have been a challenge, (and he wasn’t particularly athletic, which was the unfortunate side-effect of relying on magic so much. Not that he was lazy, he was just efficient.) He took his time with it though, and even though it sort of felt like he was heading blindly into a strange, echoing abyss, he was calm for the most part. Every so often he’d hear something creak, and that would make him a little nervous, but the idea that Milo had apparently found some kind of bottom was a comfort to him. Then he felt the ladder move, which this high up, wasn’t a very good sensation to be having. Swaying like one was on a boat while on a ladder made his stomach churn wretchedly. 

“How much longer until I get down?” Damien called, as he gripped the ladder a little tighter, scared to continue until whatever this was passed. 

Milo was quiet for what felt like minutes. Then he spoke up. “Little hard to tell when I can’t see shit.” the man answered.

“Are you okay, Damien?” Carly called down from her spot. He could see the woman pull out her light, shining her cell-phone light at him. Damien winced a little when it caught him in the eyes, and he glanced back down to protect them. 

“I’m fine I just…” He sighed again, because this whole thing made him feel like maybe he was just being a wuss. Like this was just the stress getting to him. “Thought I felt the ladder move or something.” 

“Vertigo?” Carly called back, and Damien nodded. 

“Something.” he answered.

Milo was quiet for a second longer. 

“Okay, Damien, I don’t want you to move, I’m gonna come get you.” Milo finally said. 

Damien rolled his eyes at the thought. “No, absolutely do not do that.” 

“Well want me to do it?” Carly asked from up high. 

“Stay there for a moment!” Milo called up to her. “Nobody move, just let me go get him.” 

“Nobody needs to ‘get’ me.” Damien sighed heavily. “I swear, I’m-”

The dual sensation of pain and fear hit him like someone had dropped a Dodge on him. Suddenly his head was spinning and he couldn’t tell up from down, right from left. He gripped onto the ladder for dear life as the attack threatened to rip him away and send him diving rapidly into this bottomless fucking pit. But he was so overwhelmed by these sensations that he wasn’t able to concentrate on any of that. All he could think about was Virgil and Mark. Mark and Virgil. Shouting, screaming. Fighting, bleeding. Virgil screaming his torment to the heavens. Mark struggling to reach him. This was no normal execution, this was someone slowly opening his wrists and drawing out the various veins to allow them to drain into cups set around the altar. Some laughing psychopathic vampire slapping his cheek when he became too much to handle. Leaving him alone to die in a dark room while he slowly bled out. Screaming, crying, while being dragged away to meet his newest captor. Damien was so mind-fucked by the signals he was getting from the twin links he had to both men that he could hardly tell where he began and they ended.

Damien didn’t notice his grip loosening from the bars of the ladder until they slipped out of his grasp. 

He had the oddest sensation of being weightless, but it didn’t last very long. 

Something caught him, but it didn’t feel good, no this rescue hurt like hell, maybe cracked a few ribs in the process. He struck Milo’s arm with the force of a thousand bricks, and both men struggled for a moment, not to fall any further. If Milo hadn’t been a god the impact alone would have sent them both tumbling to the ground, but Milo was strong, and he held on for dear life for the both of them. It was a good thing the other man had reacted so quickly, because Damien felt like his skin was on fire.

“Damien!” Damien heard Carly’s voice scream his name, and echo around the dark chamber.

“I’ve got him!” Damien heard Milo call back. 

Damien reached out with shaking hands, his fists bunching tightly into Milo’s shirt.

“He’s dead.” Damien whispered, his whole body shaking with the realization.

Alarmed, Milo demanded. “Who’s dead?”

“Virgil’s dead!” Damien practically screamed. 

Then the pain became too much for Damien to handle. He finally fainted in the other man’s arms.

~~

“Virgil!”

Even though the sounds of Mark’s terrified screaming were beginning to become a little faint to him, Virgil could still hear them. Every other sense was numbed by the pain. 

He could sort of sense that the vampires who’d attended his execution were beginning to trickle out now, taking Mark with them. He could sort of hear the fighting still happening, despite the pounding ringing in his ears. Defiant to the end, Mark was still fighting for him, despite that he had to have known that it wouldn’t make a bit of difference now. At this point, they were just waiting for him to finish bleeding out.

Virgil heard a crack, and a sound of pain escaped him. Fuck he wished they would stop hitting Mark. The man didn’t deserve this, especially after being forced to watch him die. 

He actually kind of wondered how he was still hanging on. 

He shifted a little on the altar, his flayed nerves screaming in pain. It was an honestly unique sensation, feeling the bits of his flesh dragged along behind the limbs across the cold metal of the table. Unique, but terrifying. He never knew he could be in so much pain.

There was a soft touch against the palm of his hand. At first Virgil thought someone had gotten impatient, and planned to just end him once and for all. At this point, it would have been welcomed. He turned his head, and once his vision stopped swimming, what he saw wasn’t a fearsome dark creature looming over him, ready to end him. 

It was Hanna.

The missing girl from his class… or, she was. 

She was different now. Cold and pale, eyes a bright gold color. Her mouth slightly ajar, revealing a set of sharp fangs. 

His mind raced as he watched the little girl. She wasn’t going for his blood, and there had to have been a substantial amount of it around him, on the table, in buckets, on the floor. In fact, with her gently gripping his hand, Virgil realized that she was trying to comfort him.

Virgil closed his eyes. Hanna was dead, turned, and one of them now. There was nothing he could do for her anymore. She’d remain a child forever, never growing up, never truly understanding. On the other hand, Mark was in danger, being taken off to meet his new master, and who knew what that evil soul had in store for Mark. 

It was too late for Hanna. 

It was too late for himself.

When he opened his eyes again he took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he knew he had to do next. 

“Hanna… I need your help.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finally showed this story to a real live friend (after worrying for so long that I'm a terrible writer and this story could be really dumb and etc) and it turned out that, I didn't need to worry. She loved it! And as I'm beginning to feel relieved she goes "I wish Mark wasn't happy with Milo though, I'm totally Team Virgil." 
> 
> And that was when I had my oh shit moment. I went back and reread the whole thing. 
> 
> Virgil and Mark have this whole built in semi-romantic backstory and I NEVER EVEN NOTICED.
> 
> Good job me. 
> 
> Anyways, I have some thoughts about what's going to happen with this trio now, but I'm going to keep those to myself for now, lol.


	5. Insomnia

“Well, that was uncalled for.” 

“You wanna cop an attitude with me? I’ll do it again.” 

Damien heard Milo scolding Carly just as he was beginning to wake up, and his tone made Damien wish he could just knock himself back out. He spent a few more moments feigning being asleep. Then he remembered what was going on and he realized that he actually needed to be around. Not just because Carly was clearly two seconds away from murdering Milo. 

But whatever just happened while he was on that ladder direly needed his attention.

He slowly opened his eyes, looking up into the too-bright flashes of two cellphones hovering a few feet above him, (sometimes he hated the modern age) and eventually realized he was lying flat on his back on an old CPR board from a nearby crash cart that someone had tipped over onto its side.It was probably the only flat surface down there that wasn’t the floor, so he appreciated the foresight.

Milo and Carly were both kneeling beside him, watching over him as he came to. Damien realized, once he was slightly more awake, that Carly was actually gripping his hand, very tightly. When she noticed that he was awake, she sighed in relief, giving his hand a squeeze. 

“You’re not allowed to do that to me ever again.” She said firmly, drawing back a little as Milo moved in to do his own examination.

“What in the hell just happened?” Milo asked. “One minute you were fine, and the next you were hurtling down the shaft. You’re lucky I had already started coming back up to get you.”

“You caught me?” Damien asked, as he tried to move and winced. Yeah, his earlier assessment that he’d broken a couple of ribs when he was grabbed out of the air by his friend seemed totally on point now. Even the act of breathing hurt.

Milo nodded. He seemed to have sobered up considerably, which, considering what he’d just put him and Carly through, seemed to make sense. Nothing like a little life and death situation to send the remaining alcohol hurtling out of your system.

“Well, thanks.” Damien said, as he shifted to try and get up. He nearly got into a sitting position when Carly stopped him.

She was very gentle as she grasped his shoulders, pushing him back down to the CPR board. “Just relax for a minute okay?” She told him. “You nearly died. You take two minutes to breathe.” She gently scolded him. 

Damien snorted a bit, even as he laid back. “Not sure I’m allowed to die, that’s not outlined in my contract terribly well.” He muttered sarcastically. 

“Okay, you diva, we get it, you’re tough stuff.” Milo said, his tone indicating he was definitely a little more sober now. “You need to tell us again what you told me on the ladder.” 

“On the lad-”

Damien abruptly paused, eyes going wide. “Oh… fuck.” He whispered, unsure that he wanted to tell the others everything he’d just experienced. He’d had links with others before, but he’d never gotten feedback from them like he had just gotten from Mark and Virgil. Those sensations, that gaping, heart torn out feeling he sensed from both of the men was the closest he’d ever gotten to picturing what death was actually like. And he’d had some gnarly, gaping injuries before, so that was saying something.

And now his connection to both boys seemed dead. That had certainly never happened before, not when it wasn’t him ending the spell.

Carly was very gentle when she went to get his attention. "Damien." She asked him, probably only being gentle with him right then because he had nearly died. "What happened to Virgil and Mark?" She asked him gently.

Damien shook his head. "I don't know for sure. I thought… it felt like they were torturing Virgil but the feeling was…” He paused. “I… don’t feel him anymore.” he said, as he probed for those links again. “I don’t feel… either of them.” He said, unable to hold back just how stunned he was. For Virgil, supposing he really was dead, he supposed it would make sense that he couldn’t feel him anymore. If he was really dead, that link would be severed. That made sense. But for Mark he hadn't felt such a strong severance. He shouldn't be missing both men. He could think of a few reasons why it might be that he couldn't sense Mark, and the primary one was that there was another spellcaster with them futzing the signal. 

That didn't particularly bode well. And it honestly kind of pissed him off. How fucking dare there be another spellcaster involved who was better than him? It was probably some fancy goth wannabe piece of shit vampire who just discovered this ability once he transformed and now he’s just fucking about with other people’s spells willy nilly. Damien had a lot to say about that, to the guy’s face, right before he kicked their ass...

"Damien…" Milo called his attention back to him. "You told me..."

"I know what I said." Damien said, finally pushing himself up from the CPR board. Again, Carly and Milo tried to protest, but he refused to listen. He was still careful with his ribs, though, as he carefully stood, glancing to the others. "We can either sit here and debate what I said earlier, or we can find them and have the answers for ourselves. Right?" He asked.

Milo stared at him for a few seconds, arms crossed over his chest. He raised a skeptical eyebrow in Damien's direction, and for a moment, Damien feared that the man who had known him for so long and could see right through his bullshit would call him out on said bullshit. But to his eternal gratitude, Milo merely shrugged. "Sure, whatever you say." 

Carly seemed a little more skeptical than Milo, but at least she didn't protest right away. Damien watched as Milo turned, heading down one end of the tunnel. Damien was about to ask if he even knew which way he was going, when he noticed that Milo was actually limping.

Pushing all other thoughts aside, Damien cleared his throat. "Milo. What the fuck."

Milo turned back around. Damien jabbed a finger in his direction. Milo followed the finger down, until he saw that Damien was pointing at his side. Carefully pulling his hand away, Damien got a glimpse of the man’s own blood staining the palm of his hand. "What the fuck happened?" Damien demanded.

"Oh, this." Milo rolled his eyes a little, before shooting daggers in Carly's direction. "Your girl stabbed me."

Carly for her part, looked anything but remorseful. "You deserved it." 

"I had just saved Damien's life!" Milo said. "I literally didn't do anything else, I did not deserve to get stabbed."

"You're not allowed to touch him. So thank you for saving his life, but still you needed to be punished." She shrugged nonchalantly.

Damien choked on a laugh, which naturally ended in a hiss of pain. His poor abused ribs couldn’t handle the hilarity of the moment. "Jesus. Fuck. And you wonder why I'm in love with the girl." He said. He turned his head back to Carly. “Carly that’s fucking hot. Wish I could have seen it.” 

Carly shot a smug look in Milo's direction. Milo rolled his eyes, looking back to Damien. "So that’s what my loyalty gets me. Whatever happened to bros before-"

"Say it and I will legitimately end you." Carly dared him, hand brushing coyly over the weapon sheathed at her hip.

The three of them began to travel down the tunnel. It was slow going, due to the various injuries the two men were now sporting, but Carly hung back, keeping a careful eye on Damien. She allowed Milo to get a ways ahead of them, before finally saying something to Damien. 

“Level with me.” She told him. “Is Virgil actually okay? Something bad had to have gone down to shake you like that.” She said, giving him a knowing look. “Nothing gets to you. So it had to have been…”

“I can’t tell you anything for sure until we find him.” Damien said. He had his suspicions, of course. He was actually bordering on the idea that Virgil could actually be dead, the way he’d told Milo before he passed out. 

“Damien, if something has happened to him, I want to know.” Carly continued to insist. “I want to be prepared before we get in there.” She continued to frown, her eyes settling on the floor in front of them as they walked. “He’s been my best friend for so long. If something happened to him…” 

“We’ll level this place.” Damien told her. He glanced to her over his shoulder. 

Carly snorted, but he caught her giving him a bit of a smile. “Well I was going to do that anyways. No one takes my Virgil and gets away with it.” 

“Attagirl.” Damien shared a private grin with her. “Get angry. And if we must grieve, we’ll have time for it later.” 

“After we’ve slaughtered every last vampire here.” Carly agreed. 

The two of them continued on, walking side by side, a newfound strength guiding them on, as they resolved to face the unknown.

~~ 

Virgil held the child in his arms, gently rocking her, his upper body shifting back and forth, rolling with the motions. That sweet little girl, with her long dark hair resting over his arm like a long curtain, shifting over his skin with every subtle movement he made, with the circulation of the air in this darkened room. He brushed his finger through silken bangs, righted the clothing she had clearly been wearing since the day she disappeared. And if he ignored the sharp break in her neck Virgil could almost imagine her sleeping. 

He hadn't wanted to kill her. No child should have to die once, let alone twice. But when he first woke up in this new form, and was immediately bombarded by all the new sensations… for a child to have to go through this, unattended, to live forever stuck like this? Without the ability to develop an understanding of what was happening? He knew he couldn’t leave her like that. It broke his heart to do it, but he knew he had to put her down. It made him feel heartless, wretched, and some terrible, niggling voice in the back of his mind told him things had finally come full circle. He was an indiscriminate killer now, just like his father.

It took him some time to just be okay with what he had done. There wasn’t anything else he could have done after all. You can’t go back from being dead. The thought choked a bitter, dry laugh out of him. That was a sensation, after all, that he was about to become very familiar with. 

When he felt he could move again, he gently placed the little vampire onto the altar, where he had been laying not too awfully long ago too. He brushed his hands over her cheek, patted her tiny hand, and hoped that wherever she was now, her soul had found its peace.

That left him alone in this place, with this strange altar in the middle, his own blood still drying on the floors and walls. He was locked in this room, he could tell that without checking. It was a strange thing about being a vampire. There were certain things he could just sense, things he shouldn’t otherwise known. He could hear the multitudes of people around him, vampire and human alike. He could hear a couple of guards laughing outside in the hallway. Pick up the bits and pieces of an argument happening in another part of the building, behind him. 

Since having Hanna turn him, everything felt very strange. Different. Like his eyes had opened to another world. And rather incredibly, as he was standing there, trying to brainstorm a way out, he had a moment of realization. Like a lightbulb had turned on inside of him. He thought about the various things Damien had taught him, or well, tried to teach him. His mentor had spent years trying to teach him magic, nothing spectacular, just some very basic things, like misdirection and illusion, or spells to help him find his way, and none of it had never really taken. Magic was ephemeral, it didn't obey rules. He had difficulty grasping the concept of controlling an unseen force that didn't follow any rules. Who would have ever thought that all it would take for him to understand was for him to die?

That probably wasn't what Damien had in mind for him, but he supposed they all learned differently.

He took a moment to consider his options. He had to get out of this room. He needed to find Mark. He needed to rescue Mark and take him someplace safe, before anything happened to him. Just to see if he could do it, Virgil reached out a hand, pointed to the locked door, the entrance to the room.

It didn’t work the first, or even the second time he tried it. Virgil chewed his bottom lip, an oddly sharp sensation, with the inclusion of his new set of fangs. He thought about the way Damien had performed this spell. Damien wasn’t a man to sit over a cauldron and chant rhyming incantations. Damien had always told him magic was a feeling. A gathering of energy into your being, and commanding that energy to work for you. And now that Virgil was thinking about it, he remembered. That striking stance, Damien’s hand outstretched casually to the lock. When he snapped his fingers, his wrist jerked upwards, like he was personally directing that energy into the lock. 

A spark escaped Virgil’s fingers the next time he did it. And this time… he heard the lock open with a loud click.

That simple demonstration was more than enough to show him that he could do this. He could use what Damien had taught him, the spells that they both thought he could never learn. And once he found Mark, he was going to make damned sure nothing could ever hurt him again...

Using a supposedly basic spell that Damien had tried to teach him a few years back that he just didn't understand until now, he summoned forth the various threads that connected him to the most important people in his life. It was something he could do even without an established link, though apparently that would make it easier. There were ties that bound people to each other, close friends and family, cords that were near impossible to cut. This spell simply allowed you to see them. (And occasionally, return some of the bad karma they had sent your way.) 

The first one he noticed was a teal one tied to his wrist, and after some searching he realized it was his brother, Morgan. Close beside it was a long, grey one that connected him to his father. He was able to discern a few interesting things from the threads. For one, neither of them were in the country. He couldn’t quite tell if they were together or not, not that it mattered. It was just an interesting observation. 

Then he thought about his last interaction with them. The words that flew between them, the insults. His father had always been blunt, that didn’t bother him nearly as much as his brother taking his side. It was easier than he thought it would be, cutting those cords. 

The next two threads connecting him to his past life were a little more difficult. The dark purple string that led him to Carly. There was a time when Virgil thought that Carly was it, she was going to be the one. He honestly loved that girl, and if he’d found her before she opened her business, maybe things would have been different. She was stunning. She was independent. She loved fiercely, despite the pain of her own past, and Virgil had been one of the rare individuals to see her emotions laid bare, open and vulnerable. But as it was they were better as friends than as a couple. He did note, almost curiously, that Damien’s blue thread was wrapped around hers, and he couldn’t tell if it was an accident, or if the man was unconsciously asserting his claim. Damien was a good man, despite his insistence to the contrary, and Virgil looked up to him more than he did his own father. He’d certainly learned a lot more from his mentor than from the stubborn old fool. Damien was purely responsible for teaching him how to wield his daggers a bit more professionally, for taking the time to attempt to teach him to wield magic, even if that didn’t exactly pan out the way they’d expected. It pained him to do it, but he had to release those threads too.

That left him with exactly one left to ponder. The bright red one that connected him to Mark. For some reason, that one was the clearest to his scrambled, baby-vamp brain. He saw the man, saw his smile, heard his honest laugh. Quiet nights when the man’s husband (by fortune only, he thought to himself) was away, and he didn’t want to be alone. The couple of times Mark needed help with something regarding Jenn. Virgil reflected on those memories, on the warmth that they brought him, despite the persistent chill he felt, in his new condition. It reaffirmed for him what he had known before, and he knew what he had to do now. 

He held onto that last thread and  _ tugged _ .

~~

Mark either blacked out or zoned out, he couldn't tell which, during Virgil's execution. Mark had kicked and screamed, struggled against the restraint from the other vampires holding him back. He had been desperate to get to Virgil, even if there wasn't anything he could have realistically done. If he couldn't have saved him, he wanted to at least be there for him.

And he was so, so angry with himself for blacking out when Virgil most needed him. It killed him to think of the man he’d been forced to leave behind, not knowing what had happened after he had been dragged away. It hurt him to think, but he hoped someone there, despite their darkened, black hearts, saw it in themselves to have mercy on the man and not allow him to suffer. Thinking of Virgil slowly bleeding out was an awful thought, especially if Mark couldn’t have been beside him.

Now, he was aware that he was being carried, tossed carelessly over some vampire minion’s shoulder, blindfolded, his arms tied behind his back. Kind of a pointless gesture, when he'd already been so out of it. He wondered where the hell they actually were. It didn't feel like they were still in that death trap hospital anymore, for one, he could feel a cool breeze sweeping over him, through his hair, and the tell-tale scent of salt that came with it. Well, that would likely make Milo happy, assuming the man knew what was going on and was looking for him. That information didn’t really help him much; California had something on the order of 800 miles worth of beach, and Mark could have been taken to any single one of them. Hell, he didn’t know how long he’d been out, he didn’t even have any recollection of how he got there from the abandoned old hospital. 

Finally he was placed on his feet and roughly turned around, the blindfold ripped from his eyes. Mark's vision was absolutely swimming, causing him to tip precariously to the side, but the vampire behind him caught him before he could actually fall. Once he could see again, he finally raised his chin up and looked into the face of his next captor. 

The man looked every bit as cliche as Mark suspected he would. Tall, long dark hair, sort of a Damien-esque confidence exuding from him. He was dressed differently, though. Damien loved his leathers, expensive jackets, point-toed boots. This guy was dressed like he was reminiscing the 1800’s, with his red velvet vest adorning a fraying white shirt. Long, black pants that were cut in a style that resembled something out of a Civil War epic. If he’d dressed like that in the coffee shop, Mark thought he would have been a bit more on his guard.

Yes, Mark remembered his name was Victor. He wasn’t so brain blasted that he would forget what happened earlier that morning (if that actually did happen that morning, hell if he knew). But as the man approached Mark began to get that tingling, fuzzy sensation once again, his vision going gray around the edges. That was just the effect this man had on him. At least he recognized it, now that Virgil had explained it to him.

Then the vampire standing behind him abruptly grabbed him, yanking him back so hard that Mark nearly tripped over his own feet trying to stay upright.

“Naw-uh, Vic.” The vampire said buoyantly. “You know the rules. Cash first. Then you can play.” The vampire kept a hand on Mark’s bound arms as he raised a hand out expectantly. 

Victor didn’t look pleased at the demanding tone, but he relented, pulling a large wad of cash from his jacket. He slapped the cash into the vampire’s waiting, outstretched hand. The vampire released Mark just long enough to do a quick count. Mark couldn’t tell how much, but he didn’t think it was nearly as much as he was actually worth. Yeah, he was pretty sure he and Milo had banked more that year than was in that stack, and for whatever reason, it drew a derisive laugh from Mark. He just couldn’t fucking believe he was in this situation, today, in fucking 2022. 

The two vampires beside him both shot him indifferent looks, before going back to their business.

“Well, looks like everything is in order.” The vampire finally said at length. He reached out, abruptly smacking his hand into Mark’s back and shoving him forward. This time Mark did stumble, and Victor was forced to catch him, hauling him up and drawing him up against his chest. 

“Yeah, it was kind of lucky for us.” Mark vaguely heard one of the vampires behind him talking. "He literally walked right into our hands. Him and his friend. And since we knew you were watching that angle…"

Mark made a belated sound of protest, trying to distance himself from the vampire holding him but it was quickly stopped by Victor placing his hand over his cheek. It took Mark a minute, but as the man pulled down the skin there with his thumb, he realized that he was inspecting the black eye he was likely sporting. He couldn't remember taking a hit to the face, but it was possible, especially with how the skin ached with heat. He just hadn't noticed until the man began prodding it. He realized how lucky he was; that injury could have been much worse. A little discoloration and a headache he could handle.

"Ezra." Victor said, as he continued to manipulate Mark's face, fingers sliding along his neck, pausing at another bruise at his collarbone. 

The vampire, apparently named Ezra, ceased his ranting and looked over curiously.

Victor tugged Mark around using his index finger and thumb to essentially circle the bruise on Mark's face, making sure the vampire saw exactly what he was referring to. "Who did this?" 

The vampire's face fell for a moment, as he looked the injury over. "Oh that was… he was fighting pretty hard when they were… were draining his buddy." Ezra shrugged. "He was all upset… But, hey, if you're looking for a discount over it, they might be agreeable, we didn't expect to have him after all. Short notice and all, and you’re really kind of doing us a favor, taking him off of our hands…"

Mark shivered a little, listening to the way they were talking about him. Like he was just another commodity. An object. He was about to say something about it, because he could never keep his mouth shut about that kind of bullshit, when Victor violently lashed out, taking the other by surprise. Mark turned just in time to see Victor produce a long knife. Unable to take in the violence, not so soon after watching Virgil die, Mark turned his head and squeezed his eyes shut. He heard Ezra scream, heard what sounded like liquid splashing against the concrete walkway. Mark's stomach churned wretchedly, he felt like he couldn't breathe. All he could see was Virgil, laying on that altar, screaming, writhing at each pass of the knife. They had to hold him down, and their cuts were not careful. Mark could feel his own heart begin to race, his breath stutter as his memories drifted back to the torture they’d put his friend through.

Virgil didn’t deserve the miserable death they’d given him.

Mark was lifted out of his panic when he heard Victor's voice once more. "Touch what is mine again and I will take your other eye." 

_ His _ . 

Mark was going to be ill.

There was a breath where nothing happened.

Then Mark felt Victor's hands over his, feeling out his binds, and finally cutting them. He kept his eyes tightly closed, hoping that this knife wasn't the same one the vampire had just attacked the other with. Mark felt the bindings drop to the ground, but the man was still gripping his wrists, his thumbs running over his wrists, gently rubbing at the soft skin found there. Mark couldn’t tell if he was trying to be flirtatious, or comforting, or just keep him restrained. The vampire shifted then, drawing Mark back so that his back was flush to the taller man’s chest. An arm wrapped around his shoulders, confining him to the small space between it and the vampire. Mark couldn’t help but notice the little things, the way his breath was cool against the back of his neck, instead of warm, like Milo or hell, even Virgil. 

"No one." The man breathed out, metal-tinged air caressing along the shell of his ear. "No one harms what is mine."

Mark wrenched his wrists out of the vampire’s hold, grabbing onto the arm that was braced against his chest, trying to push it back. "You're not even close to being the first person to say that to me." He didn’t mention how he married the last man that said that to him, but that wouldn’t have been a helpful thought to add.

He wasn't sure how he did it but he was somehow able to slip out of the other man's grasp. He stumbled, like he didn't expect to be able to do that, and whirled around.

This place they were in seemed huge. A very large garden, with various trees, hanging vines, bushes, flowers, fruits. It was so dense and overgrown, and Mark couldn't even see the property it was attached to. He assumed there was a house around somewhere in the foliage. They didn't really build homes like this in California. Everything was closed and fenced in. But looking around, he didn't even feel like he was in California anymore. But he had to have been, right? He knew he’d been out for a while, but he didn’t think he was in Washington, or Oregon. If there was an upside to this situation, at least he knew he couldn't be far from Milo's territory. If he could find a way out of this garden, he could reach the ocean, and hopefully find his way home from there. Maybe someone could direct him...

Victor just shot him an amused look. "Trying to lead me on a merry chase, eh?" He asked. "Well I'm game for that. And what do I win if I should capture you?" He pondered aloud. The man hummed, the sound playful. 

Mark swallowed, giving the man a pleading look. The way he was sizing him up made Mark think that he was about to eat him. He was a vampire, so it was a definite possibility. "Look." Mark said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "Please just, let me go. I won't tell anyone about you. About this whole operation. I have a husband, a kid who needs me."

"Oh, boring." Victor scoffed. "So did the one you're replacing." He said. "Handsome young man. Strong. I got a lot of good use out of him, until his heart finally gave out. Over-drained." Victor shrugged carelessly. "Hopefully as an immortal, you'll last a little longer than he did."

Mark's heart sank a little as the man recounted his story. He supposed that was what Virgil meant by blood doll. Vampires that chose to take them on essentially owned them, and used them to feed their hunger and other desires...

Victor cleared his throat then, and gestured in Mark's direction. "Go on. Run."

Mark glanced behind him, taking in the dense foliage behind him. He could run. He could put this off for a while. But he didn’t hope to think that he could find his own way out in time to escape this vampire.

He glanced back, standing as solidly as he could, tipping his chin up in defiance. “I’m not running.” He told the vampire.

Victor smirked at that. He took several heavy, plodding steps forward, moving into Mark’s personal space. Mark didn’t want to shirk away. He thought about his friend, Virgil. How brave he’d been, even until the end. He knew this man was trying to be intimidating, trying to scare him. Mark wouldn’t allow him that advantage.. “Well if you don’t want to play…” Victor said, disappointed. “Then let our night begin.” 

He suddenly snatched Mark up, and Mark caught only the faintest flash of teeth before he forced into unconsciousness once more.

~~

Milo walked ahead of them in the darkness, he and Carly using their phone’s lights to illuminate the way. Unfortunately it was so dark, and the tunnel so long, that neither of the lights helped all that much. Carly had stayed close to his side ever since his little temper tantrum in the beginning of the tunnel. Which was sweet, but he was very unused to being hovered over like that. The boss had always told him he was a horrid, ungrateful patient, but oddly enough, with Carly around, sticking close to his side, (almost looking she was trying to protect him, which was comical if only because there was hardly anything here that he needed to be protected from,) he found himself minding his p’s and q’s much better. 

Milo paused a bit ahead of them, seeming to examine something a ways off. “A door.” he whispered to Damien and Carly, kind of jerking his chin in the direction of it. He picked up his pace, spurred on by his discovery, after walking so long and finding nothing else.

“Sweet.” Damien wheezed out a little. Carly shot him a look and Damien cleared his throat like he’d just been coughing. “Okay, let’s not just go sticking our heads into random-”

But before Damien could finish Milo was gone, checking out the room before he and Carly had even had a chance to catch up with him. “...Doors.”Damien sighed a little. “Okay.” he relented now to Carly. “Sometimes he annoys the shit out of me.” He held up a hand though, when she opened her mouth to reply. “But that doesn’t mean I want to destroy his life by breaking up his marriage, I’m not a homewrecker, and neither is Virgil. Besides…” Damien shook his head a little. “I’ve known him for damn near four hundred years now. Mark keeps him a good man. He’s been good for him. I’ve seen him depressed enough to know.”

“Fair enough.” Carly shrugged. “But at the same time, Virgil also deserve to be happy.” 

“Carly…” Damien sighed. 

“No no, hear me out.” Carly said. “Virgil’s my best friend, and ever since we had to end things, I can tell that he’s just needed something to sustain him. And I’m just gonna go ahead and assume that all that time he’s not spending at the bar with me, he’s either at the school or with Mark, meaning he spends at least a third of his time there with him” She said. “And I sort of figured for a while that he’s seeing someone else, or something to that effect, because he used to spend all of his free time with me, and I was a little jealous, you know?” She said, and she grimaced a little. She made it obvious that admitting to that made her uncomfortable, but she still continued on. “I just think he deserves a chance to find love, like anyone else. He’s a good guy. Incredibly sweet, and he’s been through hell.” 

“Well I’m not saying he doesn’t.” Damien told her. “This is just… a hard situation.” He said. “But we really shouldn’t be pushing them either way. This is something the three of them have to figure out on their own.” 

Carly didn’t really seem happy with that answer, but before she could further expound upon it, Milo re-emerged from the room up ahead. 

“You know…” Milo said, after a moment. He looked a little harried, maybe even a little disturbed by what he saw in there. “I don’t like this room. And they’re not in there so...” He chewed his bottom lip for a moment. “We can check the rest of the building.”

“Dead end?” Damien asked, as he moved to catch up. Milo waited for him, for a good moment, before finally shaking his head. 

“In a manner of speaking.” Milo said. When it became obvious that Damien meant to search it anyways, he glanced to Carly. “You might want to stay out here with me.” He suggested seriously.

“Why?” Carly asked, placing her hands on her hips. “Whatever is in there I can handle it. I’ve probably seen worse.”    
  
“Look….” Milo said at length. “I’m not being some kind of, I don’t know, male chauvinist pig here. I really don’t think you want to go in there.” He gestured back in Damien’s direction. “He’s just a stubborn idiot, nothing I can do about that. I’ve tried.” 

“Yeah well, that’s exactly what  _ you’re  _ being. Now get out of my way.” Carly said, as she brushed past Damien and Milo and threw open the doors. Damien looked into the room over her shoulders and immediately his heart sank.

“Oh fuck.” Damien murmured.

He’d  _ never  _ seen a room so covered in blood. It was  _ everywhere _ . On the floors, on the walls, on the ceiling, which was a good ten feet above them, that was hard to do. There were bodies of dead vampires in various degrees of wholeness, yeah, there were too many missing limbs for Damien to even try to keep track of. And in the dead center of the room, an altar, with the body of a little girl laying on top of it. A little girl. Damien could only surmise that that had to have been Virgil’s missing student.

But neither Virgil nor Mark were there.

_ Where were they? _

Carly stood quietly in the entrance, taking it in with a carefully schooled expression on her face. Carly was a strong woman, there was no doubt, but hell, this was affecting  _ him _ . But Carly would never show how it affected her; she would never make herself vulnerable in a strange place, with a stranger like Milo hanging around. There was death and decay in there, and it painted a very clear picture to Damien of what had just taken place there. 

So maybe his premonition on the ladder was real after all. 

“Dames.” Milo called into the room. “Do you think… Mark and… and Virg?”

Damien had the sickening feeling he knew what was going on here, but again, feelings weren’t enough for him to make a solid determination. The only thing he knew now for sure was that Virgil was dead. He had to be. No one could survive this kind of blood loss, and he didn’t think it all came from the child or the dead vampires, either. What didn’t make sense to him was what happened after. Where was Virgil’s body? Where was Mark?

Carly moved from the center, making a beeline for something that Damien hadn’t even noticed. When she picked it up, gingerly pushing aside a long dead vampire in order to do so, Damien saw that she was holding Virgil’s jacket. She gave it such a sad look, as she held it up for Damien to see. “His jacket.” She noted softly. “Here.” She pointed out the side seam to him. “It ripped there, and the only thread we had was navy. That was the day I taught him how to stitch things, before he was just kind of, threading a needle and making all kinds of haywire patterns.” She recounted the memory almost fondly, and Damien wondered if she was about to go into some form of shock. She raised her head up to Damien. “He’s dead, isn’t he?” She asked him, voice quivering. 

Damien didn’t answer her right away. He might have still been in some kind of denial himself. He noted one of the vampires gripping something tightly in a nearly severed arm. Curious, he leaned over and carefully pried it out of that outstretched hand. It was a small, lined flashcard, with an address on the back. It was the most mundane thing to be found in the entirety of that room. 

He glanced over his shoulder, holding up the notecard for Milo’s perusal. “I think I just found our hint as to where we should go next.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This felt like such a boring chapter to me, but it's kind of a plot advancing chapter too. Everyone needed to go to where they need to be to set up the next part of this story. It's also very close to being finished. This particular stretch in the series was meant to take place in the course of one night, whereas the other stories took place over a week (Dragging You Down) and a year (Hurricane Year.)
> 
> Also idk when I will get the next part up because... I'm leaving? For ten days? Next month?? And I feel like I'm going to have to focus on getting ready for that. 
> 
> In the meantime if you are interested, I started a tumblr blog for this series. Lmao that sounds so dumb, but it exists, you can find it [here](https://wickedwitchwc.tumblr.com). I don't know, I think I just wanted to have a place to collect my thoughts on these characters, on the cannon, play around with the inspiration I get from their fc's. So in other words it's mostly for me, but if you want to see my insanity you can come and watch me, I'm sure the slow unraveling of my sanity would be entertaining for some people to watch. 
> 
> Also that's going to be the place to be because I have a VERY important post coming up within the next few hours regarding something not terribly related to this story, but also, related to this story in that it affects me and my ability to work on it. So if you want to help me out, come to my tumblog. And in the meantime, I'll see you in the next chapter.


	6. Raised By Wolves

Mark had been fading in and out of consciousness throughout this entire ordeal. It hadn’t really been a surprise that Victor had had other desires for him other than merely making him his blood doll. He figured that out from Victor’s manner in the coffee shop, and from the whispered promises and intimate demeanor that the man had other things in mind for him. 

He vaguely witnessed being carried up a long staircase. 

He was roused, briefly, when he was placed onto a plush bed. 

When he felt the man's hands tugging off his clothing he finally snapped out of it enough to begin struggling against him. It was useless. It was always useless. He worked out pretty religiously, even after he had Jenn, (even though he definitely had less time for with the toddler.) But he still could never hold a candle, strength-wise, to these supernatural entities in his life. By the time Victor finally reached his briefs Mark had kind of given up on fighting back. He knew he was just wasting energy he didn't have, thanks to all the mind-fucking he'd been subjected too.

Victor slowly slid them down, letting Mark feel the fabric brush along his legs, leaving him bare.

Mark raised his head up slightly, unable to do much else than watch as the man parted his thighs. Mark held his breath for what felt like forever. The vampire leaned in, nosing a bit at the inside of his right thigh. It took another few seconds for Mark’s brain to further connect the dots, what he was doing, but it all became abundantly clear when he felt two, exceptionally sharp fangs pierce him. Mark gasped, twitching, flailing arms scrambling to hold onto the sheets, the bedposts, something. In his panic, he even took a grip of the man’s hair, trying in vain to push him away. Fuck, it hurt. It felt like those fangs were piercing right through him. 

But worse was the feeling that accompanied shortly after. As Victor drank from him the world began to spin wildly. His limbs began to feel heavy. His breath grew shorter, as he began to pant loudly. He just felt like he couldn’t catch his breath. Somehow, this was worse than the black outs. After a while of this, Mark just stopped struggling. He just didn’t have the strength. 

Just when Mark was beginning to think that this was it, this vampire was going to drain him and he would die from the loss of blood, Victor pulled away. Mark could see twin streams of his blood trailing from the corners of his mouth, staining his chin, especially when he went to wipe his mouth against the back of his hand. The sight of it caused his stomach to turn.

Once Victor was a few decent feet away, Mark reached out and grabbed the blanket, tugging it over him like it would actually protect him from the vampire. Even Victor seemed amused by that, but he didn’t protest immediately. Mark watched as Victor bent over gathering up something on the floor, and once Victor straightened himself up, Mark realized it was his clothing. 

Victor looked to him briefly, allowing him to see his clothes. "You won't be needing these anymore." Victor told him, wadding up the laundry and moving towards the only door to the room. "Try to relax…" he told Mark. "While you can. The real fun will start once I come back."

Mark didn't like that implication at all.

Once he was certain Victor was gone, Mark struggled to get out of bed, throwing back the covers and standing on unsteady feet. He fought the dizziness for a moment, before he tried moving. He knew he probably should hurry because who knew when Victor would return, but he also knew he’d just lost a lot of blood just now. Even still, he absolutely, steadfastly refused to just lay there like some helpless damsel and wait for Milo to reach him. He was angry, heartbroken and hurt. He didn’t have any idea what he could do, but he was going to damned before he let that vampire touch him again. 

As soon as he moved though, the room whirled violently, and he stumbled. He reached out blindly, taking a few lurching steps forward, until he grabbed onto something hanging on the wall.

Mark blinked a couple of times, trying desperately to get his bearings. When he finally lifted his eyes upwards, he realized he was holding onto the heavy, wooden frame of a rather old looking mirror. It was rather old fashioned, with the ornate frame painted gold, like something his grandmother might have hung up in her home. He locked eyes with his reflection, and something in his reality shifted. Mark felt his fingertips burn. But before he could pull away, everything twisted on its head and suddenly, Mark was inside the mirror, and he was the one looking out at his reflection. No, his surroundings didn’t change, but they had shifted, everything seeming opposite, in the way that an image mirrored was.

He knew all too well the being that was staring back at him now. Those slightly bloodshot eyes, that twisted smile, that smooth, slick voice that sounded like his own, but carried the undercurrent of something dark guiding it. Yeah, that was his vision come real Dark he was looking at now. This perverted version of something that had once been a joke. A character he created given flesh and bone, and more disturbingly, power.

“Well, well.” The creature that wore his face taunted him. “Quite the mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“What the hell do you care?” Mark hissed, trying to pull his hands back from the frame but, he found out pretty quickly that he couldn’t move. It was like he was glued in place, which was not what you wanted to be when dealing with Dark. 

The other snorted, and unfortunately for Mark, Dark seemed to have no problem pulling away. It was a little unfair that his reflection didn’t have the same limitations he did, but he supposed that fell under the purview of Dark’s demonic powers.

“Well, you know I’ve always been the helpful sort…” 

Mark scoffed at that. “You’ve never gone out of your way for me, you are a goddamned liar.” Mark kept struggling, trying to release his grip on the mirror, tugging to no avail. It was almost certainly an exercise in futility, but let it be known; he was a stubborn son of a bitch. “You left me and Virgil alone in that fucking cell and now he’s  _ dead _ . You could have done something at- Any. Time.” Mark angrily pointed out.

Dark tsked at him, as he glanced around the room. “I’m not interested in your torrid love affairs. Who you fuck, who you’ve cheated on, that’s none of my business. It’s not my place to get involved in that.” he further explained. “What does concern me, is how you’ve put yourself, and therefore me, in a position where death is now a possibility, and that…” the demon looked back to him, waving his index finger in Mark’s direction in a manner most disapproving. “You don’t get to die. Not until I’m done with you.” 

“I don’t  _ want  _ your help.” Mark hissed.

“You  _ need  _ it.” Dark insisted. 

Mark made a face as the demon retreated further into the bedroom, while he was stuck, still attached somehow to that mirror. 

“Lots of rather flammable looking furniture in this room, don’t you think? Your friend Victor is a rather old fashioned sort, decorating like an elderly spinster. Good, solid wooden frame on most of this stuff. Old fabrics, papers. Books.” He hummed a little, as he dragged a hand across the wallpaper. “Arsenic.” 

Mark rolled his eyes at the dramatic display. “Yeah, so?” He asked. 

Dark raised up a hand, directing the motion towards a particularly full corner. There was an old fashioned chair nestled there, and as Dark concentrated, Mark watched as a flame appeared under it. Small at first, sweeping up one of the chair’s ornately carved legs, then, flicking upwards, climbing the wood. Mark watched in growing horror as that small flame quickly spread. 

Suddenly, there was another shift, and Mark was back in his own body, back in the real world. His own weakness nearly overtook him again, but he managed to stay up on his feet by grabbing onto a nearby dresser. Quickly, the scent of burning wood roused him again and he glanced back over his shoulder to the corner of the room that was now intensely consumed.

"What in the hell did that do to help me, you stupid…" He swore.

Mark made his way to the door, grabbed the handle (which was already warm to the touch) and threw it open. He saw a gush a smoke push towards the hallway, just over his head, clinging to the ceiling, and Mark realized he needed to get out of there fast. 

~~

Virgil had just kicked down the front door when he realized that he probably should have come up with a plan before he had done anything else. He didn't know anything about the man that had purchased Mark, whether he had back up, if he lived in this house alone (hard to imagine a man taking up such a huge space just to live on his own,) or exactly how powerful a vampire he might be. 

Damien probably would have been smart and scoped the place out first, but Virgil didn't think that he had that kind of time. Mark had been out of his reach for a while now, and he didn't know what this vampire would to do to him. If he intended to drain him, or worse. He’d rescued a few blood dolls as a hunter. He’d held a couple of them in his arms while they died, slowly, painfully, holding them close just so they wouldn’t feel alone. He didn't know what he'd do if he found Mark in a similar state. But from the heat of his building, seething rage burning anew inside him, he knew it wouldn't be good.

It was an odd thing the way he was feeling, now that he was dead. Virgil felt like he had two warring voices in his head at all times. One which spoke logically, and another one that wasn't really a voice… it was more animalistic instinct. A sensation. A feeling. Though it wasn't speaking in a language that could be recognized, he still could understand very clearly what it was trying to force out of him. This burning sensation of ownership. That sense of violation when some  _ thing _ that belongs to you is taken. It felt like a drum beat. A reverberating echo. That angry chant of  _ mine mine mine _ that overrode every sensible, moral understanding that he'd ever known. It made it impossible for him to think clearly, to rationalize his situation. Not that he was all that good at that sort of thing to begin with. That was why he was training with Damien. But this was so much more intense than anything he'd ever experienced. It swirled around him and filled every fiber of his being.

He knew Mark was there. He could even sort of sense that he was still alive, the way he was breathing, in an irregular pattern that indicated he was under some kind of distress. That  _ enraged  _ him. And he was going to tear apart every fucking thing that dared to stand between him and…

"What are you doing here?" 

Virgil whirled, and spotted the source of the voice very quickly. A tall, dark haired man, standing in the well of a staircase. He didn't look terribly startled to see him, or he was just very good at hiding it. Virgil could easily scent out that he was old blood. He had about a century or two under his belt. That meant he was powerful, but Virgil knew he wasn’t one to be trifled with, either.

_ The new vampires are more dangerous, kid _ . Virgil was startled to have that memory come flooding back. 

Sitting at the campfire with his dad sitting beside him was a common memory for Virgil. It was something they did often during a hunt, his father having no qualms about bringing his young children along for the ride. His father wanted them to carry on the family tradition of hunting the paranormal for currency, and for that, the training began when they were young. The smell of burning cedar wafting into the air was such a strong memory for him that he could almost sense it in the present. Virgil as a child barely paid attention during these hunts, choosing instead to do the other mindless activities children playing in the woods did. That day he’d been prodding the fire with a stick. But he could actually recall the way he'd pricked up, turning to listen to his father’s gruff tone.

_ At least the older ones you can reason with. _

What an odd thing to recall.

Especially as his vision narrowed and darkened around this target; that man was standing between him and Mark.

His existence was at an end.

~~

Mark could feel the heat at his back as he stumbled through the halls. There were so damned many of them, filled with rooms after rooms. Or maybe it just seemed that way because he was pretty sure he was still zoning out every couple of steps. His inability to focus right then made him feeling like he was sleepwalking. He pressed a hand against a steadily warming wall, fingers brushing along the oddly velvet textured designs in the decaying wallpaper. He had no idea how he was able to keep pushing forward, but he forced himself to keep moving. This couldn't have been a modern house, or he was sure that there'd be fire alarms blaring, but he didn't hear anything. He had no idea how an inferno could be so quiet. 

When he finally found a staircase leading to a lower level it felt like a victory. He could sort of hear some kind of scuffle taking place somewhere on the first floor, but he knew he was going to have a bitch of a time getting down there, so that was his first priority. He gripped onto the railing as best as he could and began to descend, carefully. Despite the world swirling around him, he was able to make it a good distance down. The sounds of the fight grew closer, and closer as he approached. There were two darkened figures at the bottom of the stairwell, and he couldn’t quite make it out, until he saw Victor pulling Virgil into a headlock.

At just the sight of him, Mark felt like he'd just been punched in the gut, because he was so damned sure he'd seen Virgil die back at the abandoned hospital. So seeing him, even if he was about to get his neck snapped, brought out a lot of emotions that he didn't exactly have the time to examine. And speaking of watching Virgil die? Never again.

Mark looked around the room, eyes settling on a wooden chair, sitting unassuming and gathering dust in a corner. Mark slipped down the stairs the rest of the way, managing to get past the two without being noticed. Using the last reserves of his strength, he picked it up and slammed it, hard, into the vampire’s back, splintering the wood into a billion sharp pieces across the ceramic floor. It was just enough for Victor to release Virgil, letting the man slip away and tug one of his knives from it's sheath.

"I just want you to know." Mark said, panting, as Victor was distracted from Virgil, carrying the full weight of the vampire's attention. "I've had way better." 

It was the last thing that Victor got to hear as Virgil slammed his weapon home in the man's back, drawing an outraged screech from him. Victor surged, trying to reach the weapon, but Virgil held it tight, grabbing the vampire's shoulder to keep him immobile and impaled. Victor's screams were shrill, bordering on inhuman. 

Mark felt something rush through him, it almost felt like Victor's spirit making one last, desperate grab for him, struggling to either keep himself afloat or just not go down alone. It stole the breath from Mark's lungs and he passed out immediately.

He was only out of it for a short while, but when he woke, he was being cradled in Virgil's arms, not laid out on the floor like he had expected to be. Mark blinked, and again, after some work, finally able to focus on the man supporting him. Virgil had been looking him over with a great deal of concern, until he saw the recognition in his eyes and he finally sighed in relief. "Mark…"

Mark had intended to say something intelligent, but the only thing that escaped him was an embarrassing, almost heartbroken wail as he quickly wrapped his arms around Virgil's neck and squeezed. 

“Virg.” Mark said, voice jittery as he clutched tightly to Virgil. Virgil, in return, just held him tightly. “I thought you were dead.” he whispered, as he buried his face in Virgil’s neck. All other thoughts flew from his mind, as he gripped the other man close. Virgil in return held him just as tight, being exceedingly gentle with him, running his fingers through Mark's hair and down his cheek.

  
  


Mark felt Virgil’s hold on him tighten incrementally, and it was about then that he noticed that something was different. Virgil's bared fingers carried very little heat. His breath was considerably cooler, dragging a shiver out of him as it brushed along his skin. And when Mark tugged himself back to get a better look, he noticed Virgil's cadaverous pallor, a stark difference from the sun-kissed California tan he’d had before. 

The man noticed him staring. "Don't be afraid." Virgil whispered to him quietly. 

Mark took a shuddering breath. "You know in my experience…" Mark replied, staring up at the strange golden color of his eyes that had now completely replaced Virgil's blue. "A lot of people tell me that right around the time I actually need to be afraid."

"But I…" Virgil paused, as the sound of the ceiling above them beginning to crack and splinter apart became too loud to ignore. Virgil gave him a confused look and Mark sighed.

"My demon set the house on fire." He explained.

"You should have lead with that." Virgil gently admonished him. He glanced around the room for a moment, before pulling away, allowing Mark to stand on his own for the moment. Mark wondered what he was doing, until Virgil tore the curtains down from a window, and oh yeah. In the excitement Mark had sort of forgotten that he was standing there entirely naked. Virgil returned to his side, giving the curtains a few hard shakes to dislodge some of the dust, before tugging them around Mark. Mark gripped the curtain tightly around him as Virgil proceeded to lift him into his arms and carry him from the burning home. 

Virgil lead him outside, through the thick garden (that he noted was already beginning to catch alight, with the fire skipping from treetop to treetop,) and eventually, with a few twists and turns in the path, out of a wrought iron gate, painted a sickly shade of green. Mark was fairly certain he was only conscious for part of that journey, and that thought seemed to be confirmed when suddenly, for no reason at all, Virgil was crouching down in the sandy shore of some beach, with Mark sort of awkwardly laying across his lap. Mark had known that they were close to a beach somewhere. 

"Now what?" Mark asked, because Virgil was different now. Not human, but a mere shadow of what he used to be.

Virgil looked from him out towards the sea. The man seemed conflicted, a state that he didn’t recognize on Virgil. He had always seemed so assured of himself before, so steadfast in doing what he knew to be right. This Virgil, who seemed to be at war with some new, inner voice was different from what Mark knew. Alien. "I don't know." Virgil finally answered. “I know what I should do.” he clarified to Mark. “But I can’t bring myself to do it.” 

Mark studied him for a moment. Everywhere they touched he had that strange, cloying, fogged up sensation, bleeding through the various fabrics that separated them and into his being. And he knew the only way to stop it was for him to push Virgil away and leave him. but he just couldn't bring himself to. Virgil had been through hell and he still fought to get back to him to save him. Mark couldn't abandon him like this. “Me either.” He admitted, after a moment. "What are your instincts telling you to do?" he asked. 

Virgil stared at him oddly for a moment. "To take you apart." 

Well, so much for the romantic vampire trope. But then, Virgil continued. "Not like, literally." He finally clarified and Mark sighed abysmally. 

"You took way too long to say that." Mark informed him.

"Well, sorry to frighten you, but there is no real tactful way for me to say that I want to own you, fuck you, and drink your blood." Virgil said. Mark didn't know if that was the sort of sentiment that should send him shivering in sudden need, but that was what he felt at that proclamation. It was a little fucked up, too, considering how he was married and had a kid and all. 

"I'm not…. I can't do that with you Virgil…" Mark began to protest, but then he felt that strange, niggling and inconvenient need bubble up inside of him again. That had to be a part of Virgil's uncontrolled vampire influence, fuck it was strong. Overwhelming in fact. It was overriding every other sensation, his morals. He wanted Virgil. He wanted to belong to him, and that feeling was beginning to take a hold of his very being. 

"Virgil." Mark said carefully. "You have to let me go." He finally forced himself to get out.

"Why?" Virgil demanded, voice harsh.

"Because I know I'm not going to be able to pull away if you don't." Mark told him. He was only human. He knew he was weak. This wasn't something he'd grown up around. He didn't have that built up tolerance Virgil had when he was still living. He knew he didn’t have the strength to fight this. It had to be Virgil that pulled away first. Mark didn’t stand a chance otherwise. This was Virgil. This was his friend, who always tried to make sure that he did what was good, what was best for the greater good of humanity. He could trust Virgil. Even though he was different now, Mark didn’t believe that anything could change that side of his friend.

Virgil stared at him for a long moment, seeming to weigh his options on his mind. When he finally spoke again, his answer stunned him. "No."

Surprised, Mark tried to protest. "Virgil, I…"

"No. I'm not… I'm not letting you go. If I have to fight for you, I will." Virgil told him. Virgil finally stood again, once more lifting Mark into his arms. "You're coming with me, and I'm going to hide you away. Far from the world. I am never going to let them find you. I will love you and keep you safe. Do you understand?" Virgil asked him. 

"No." Mark answered readily. His mind was reeling with this revelation.

“Just trust me.” Virgil told him, and the cadence of his voice was so soothing and familiar that Mark could almost be fooled into thinking that this was his Virgil, the living and sweet man that he’d grown to know so well.

“I guess I have no choice.” Mark said, after a moment.

Virgil tugged him in closer, nuzzling his mouth and nose against his neck. It was a soothing, intimate move. Mark was quickly lulled into a calm state, almost forgetting that this was the beginning of one of those zone outs. He closed his eyes, dizzy, attracted, wanting and weak. But before he could put two and two together, Virgil abruptly bit down into his neck. Mark whimpered quietly, before passing out once again.

~~

“So… the house is on fire.” 

“What?” 

Damien sat bolt upright. He had been laying across the back seat of Milo’s car. As it turned out, heading up a ladder with a couple of broken ribs totally sucked. And while that movement hadn't done much to make him feel any better, he didn't get to regret it for all that long. The pain was quickly overshadowed at the sight directly in front of him.

The house… was  _ on fire _ . 

Why was the house on fire before Damien had even gotten to it?

Milo cast a somewhat annoyed look over his shoulder at him, and ah, yes, sober Milo was thoroughly back in control. Damien had almost missed him. 

"I had nothing to do with it… obviously." he said to Damien said, as he pushed open his door. Damien didn’t feel the need to follow him right away, choosing to study their surroundings before he did anything else, and as he examined the grounds he realized a couple of things. The address was no mere McMansion sitting on the coast. This was someone's densely foliated private estate. It was huge, and, probably old. This wasn't the kind of thing you found too often in California. Even expensive homes tended to be unimpressive, so the fact that this guy had such a home? He had to have been an older vampire, someone with means, even in life. He also sort of wondered if he was the spellcaster messing with the link to Mark. That one still bothered him and it was something he badly wanted an answer to, if he ever planned on sleeping comfortably through the night again. .

Damien leaned forward, hissing a little as his ribs screamed in protest. He was in expert in working through his various pains at this point though, so he took a deep breath, and pushed it down, to be dealt with later. He knew he probably should, at some point, get on Cersa's level and learn  _ some _ healing magic, but he'd been procrastinating on that for nigh on 400 years and he wasn't going to break that record now. Now within reach of her, he gently tapped Carly's shoulder. Since they explored the hospital the girl had been unusually quiet, and he could understand why. She had known Virgil for much longer than she had known Damien. He was her friend, and they had been closer than most, for a long time. She had wanted to stay behind at the hospital and search for Virgil's body, but Damien wouldn’t allow it. If Mark was still out there alive, they had to find him first. She'd been reluctant of course, but the gentle reminder that if he were still able to say it, Virgil would want them to find Mark, finally convinced her to go with them. Damien wasn't about to leave her behind, especially knowing that for a gang like that, there was almost certainly vampires still living on the premises, and they were probably highly ticked off. Still, it hadn't been easy for her to go, and he understood that she was probably still struggling with things right now. 

Carly turned her head and leveled a look at him that wasn't angry, or depressed. Rather, she looked depleted, like the last stores of her vivacious nature had eroded. After the night they’d had, he could hardly blame her.

Damien frowned, seeing that sad look on her face. "Hey." He prodded gently.

"Hey." She answered softly, and though she was clearly trying to hide it, her voice trembled a bit with the effort of speaking up. Damien nearly winced to hear it.

"We made it." He said, kind of dumbly. He didn't quite know what else to say, but then again, words never could suffice for something like this. “To the evil vampire lair where we will surely find Mark still alive.” He said, just in case Milo could hear him. 

Carly nodded. "I was just thinking." She said. "Someone's going to have to tell his dad. His brother. I know they weren't talking, and I'm not sure they'll come out but someone should tell them." She frowned. "But everyone who cared about Virgil… they're mostly out here anyways."

"Yeah." Damien said. "Look, we have time to think about that later." He said. "Don't you want to channel your grief into action, though? Don't you want to make someone pay for Virgil’s death?" He asked her.

Carly shot him a glare. "You are the absolute worst." She practically spit out. 

"Look." Damien said. "I'm not the best at losing people. There's a huge part of me that is still in denial about all of this." He admitted. "But you know what always made me feel better after a loss like that?" He flicked his hand upwards, snapping his fingers, allowing a bright flame to leap from the tips. "Violence." He answered.

Carly stared at him for a moment longer, before she finally leaned in closer to him. "I didn't say no." She told him. 

God, he loved this girl. 

They both exited the car and went to join Milo, who, in the space of the conversation, had moved to scope out the estate. "Mark isn't in there." He said, drawing a confused look from Damien.

"You know that already?" He asked. 

Milo nodded. "There's a dead vampire in the foyer, and the rest of the house is on fire. I couldn’t get much further inside, so he had best be hiding around here somewhere." He said, and Damien heard the implied violence in Milo’s tone. Damien just hoped he could channel it in the direction of someone who deserved it.

"How do we know they brought Mark here?" Carly asked.

Milo glanced to her. "Well, because the house is on fire." He said in a tone like this was information she should just know.

Damien could tell right away from how Carly’s eyes narrowed how she felt about Milo’s tone right then. Before Carly could get too annoyed, Damien explained. "His demon likes to do that." 

"Figuring out what happened after is what's going to be a problem." Milo added. 

Damien hummed softly as he looked around. "Well, we shouldn't wait here, that's for sure. California in the middle of fire season isn't really the place to be low stakes, if you get my meaning."

"You're right, the fire department is probably on the way here already." Milo said. “Along with a bunch of nosy cops.”

"But where do we go from here?" Carly asked.

Everything was quiet for a moment, while the three of them tried to think of a plan. When neither Milo nor Carly offered anything, Damien sighed, shook his hands like he was trying to dry them, and began to work on a spell. "Let me see if I can find him…" Damien said. "I'm about halfway certain there's someone trying to hide his link from me but there are workarounds…"

"No need." Milo said suddenly. He took off at a run and brushed by them without explanation, leaving Carly and Damien standing stunned.

Carly peered around Damien, standing on her tiptoes to see where Milo was headed. "He found them." Carly said then, as she took off after him. 

"Them?" Damien glanced out to where the two were running, trying to follow what they had seen. Out on the beach he saw someone sort of lumbering along the edge of the shore. But the harder he looked, the more he realized. That wasn't a single person, that was someone carrying someone else.

The rest of the story began to fill itself in on its own and Damien swore out loud.

"Fuck!" Damien hissed. "Fuck fuck fuck."

As he ran too, towards the shore, he leapt over rocks and bushes, darted around trees, before stumbling down an all too steep embankment. Virgil  _ wasn't _ dead. Well, that was a bit of a misnomer. Virgil was dead, but he certainly didn't stay that way. Something had gone wrong, horribly wrong, and it was going to get worse if he didn't get there first.

"Kasmilos!" Damien shouted. "Don't hurt Virgil!" 

~~

"Mark."

There was a voice Mark hadn't expected to hear again so soon. That smooth, deep timber; Mark had learned to recognize Damien without even looking.

Mark had no clue what was happening right now, or how long he'd been out for this time. It was beginning to feel like the blackouts were becoming more and more frequent, and lasting for far longer. He was pretty certain at this point he was out of it for much longer than he was awake. He had the sensation that he was still being carried, so he figured he was still safe with Virgil. So with that concern figured out, he tried to further curl up in the man's arms, burrowing his face against his neck. He didn't know where they were going, and he was tired enough that he didn't quite care. He began to doze off again, when that voice called to him, this time with more urgency.

"Mark!"

Mark groaned a little. He could feel Virgil's grip on him tighten, like someone was actively trying to take him away from the other man, and Virgil was fighting them off. That was a bit of a concern, but he knew Virgil would protect him. Virgil would take care of him, while he was feeling so weak. He could rest and, just let him handle it...

"Mark for fuck's sake, wake up before these two kill each other!" Damien snapped.

That snapped Mark out of it so fast he nearly had whiplash. He opened his eyes to a mess of a scene. Virgil was still holding him, yeah, but his eyes were a dark gold, ethereal and glowing as he growled at some threat. Mark quickly followed Virgil's gaze and saw it. 

Standing a decent distance away was Milo. And he was fucking pissed. At first he thought Milo was standing in the ocean, but as he further took in the scene he realized that they were actually a good distance away from it, and Milo had called up the ocean to swirl at his feet, just waiting to be directed in their direction. That in itself would have been a bad sign. But then he noticed Damien standing beside him, holding firmly onto Milo's wrist, and Mark realized. Milo had been ready to kill Virgil, and Virgil had been primed, on edge for violence even before Milo had shown up. If Damien hadn't been there, who knows what would have happened. Mark also spotted a girl at Damien's side, but he didn't know her and he didn't think he'd ever seen her before. That made him a little self-conscious even though at this point, all of them, Damien included, had seen him in various states of undress. But here was a girl he didn't know staring at him, while he was wrapped in nothing but an old vintage drape. 

Damien, for his part, looked relieved, giving a little sigh as he looked to Mark.

"Hey buddy." He said, voice much more gentle now as he spoke to him. "Glad to see you're still with us…" He murmured. "So, I need your help right now."

Mark glanced between the two very angry men. The tense stances and the glowering they were both doing. Then he looked back to Damien. "With what?" He asked, because he wasn't sure if Damien had noticed, but Mark was a little predisposed right about then. Even if he wasn't blacking out every two seconds, even if he didn't feel weak and shaky, he wasn't so sure he could get in between Milo and Virgil and end up with all his limbs still intact. 

"Its fine, all I really need right now is for you to calm Virgil the hell down…" Damien said. 

"Shut up!" Mark winced when Virgil abruptly shouted in his ear. He was loud, his voice rumbling. He'd never heard a sound like that escape Virgil, who was normally so softly-spoken. Mark noted pretty quickly that he wasn't the only one. The girl standing beside Damien looked utterly heartbroken at seeing Virgil this way. She leaned in, gripping Damien’s free arm and squeezing it tightly. He knew without asking; she was the  _ girl _ . 

"Shut up, shut up, all of you." Virgil hissed. This time, the sound that came out of him was tragic and broken. He hunched down low over Mark, keeping him forced close. 

"Virgil, I…" the girl tried to speak reasonably to him. Virgil softened slightly at the sound of her voice, and Mark thought she could have had a chance of getting through. Unfortunately, Milo, standing close by, wasn't feeling particularly reasonable. 

"Let him go, Virgil." Milo demanded. "You can't keep him as your prisoner."

"He doesn't belong to you, for all that you have tried to keep him!" Virgil shouted, and Mark watched as Virgil tensed up all over again. "Kept him bound to you, and then neglected him…"

That immediately drew a reaction from Milo, and the waters stirred violently at his feet.

"He isn't-"

"Milo!" Mark snapped suddenly. He could already see where this was going and he was shutting that shit down. He turned slightly, just so that he could face Virgil. It wasn’t like he could do anything else. He placed a trembling, all-too-pale hand against against Virgil’s cheek. Almost immediately Virgil softened, his gaze moving back to Mark. 

Mark swallowed softly, feeling the intensity of that gaze heavily.

"Virgil." He said. "Look… it's okay. I know you're feeling lost and kind of scared right now, but it’s okay. These guys…" he said, pointing back towards where Damien and Milo and the girl stood. "They're going to help us. They are not here to hurt us. And if you put me down…"

"No!" Virgil shouted, and the force of it even startled Mark. And he wasn't the only one. Mark heard the group behind him stirring into a frenzy.

"Look, he's just a baby vamp, he's got a lot of those hormones brewing, he can't control-"

"If he fucking hurts Mark I swear-"

“If you think you can get away with hurting Virgil-!”

Knowing he needed to end this, quickly. Mark tried again. "Okay then don't… don't put me down, just listen. Damien is here, and he can help you. All these things you're going through? He knows about this, and he can fix it."

"I have had a lot of experience with vampires." Damien put in. "If you don't let me help you to control it then Mark is as good as dead anyway." 

Which was something that came as a surprise To Mark, he knew he was a little shaky and pale, but dying seemed like a stretch. Or maybe the adrenaline had kicked in, and dying didn’t feel so bad right at the moment. Either way, he concentrated back on Virgil. 

"Come on." He begged Virgil softly. 

"I can't." Virgil whispered. "They're going to take you away from me and I can't, I won't…"

"They're not going to take me away." Mark tried to soothe him.

"They are… They will." Virgil insisted. 

"Well, not for long." Mark amended. "I wouldn't let that happen. This is…" Mark shook his head, gently gripping onto Virgil’s shirt. "This is new for you." he noted. "It’s going to be hard. I wouldn't make you go through this on your own."

Virgil calmed considerably at that. "Do you promise?" He asked.

Mark nodded. "And I always keep my promises." He assured Virgil. “Seriously, you’ve always been there for me. You’ve been a good friend. So I’m going to do whatever I can to help get you through this.”

Virgil seemed to calm at that. Mark gently stroked the man's pale cheek, further soothing him. Finally, he began to relent. With extraordinary gentleness, Virgil finally allowed Mark to stand, with an arm around him for support. It was at that point that the others felt safe to move in. Milo caught him up immediately, carrying him away from the group so fast that Mark's head spun immediately. He heard Virgil make a noise of protest, but as Mark turned his head to look, he saw Damien holding onto him, keeping him from following after Milo and Mark. The girl stood near to his side, both hands cupping his face, whispering sweet words to him that he couldn’t make out. Mark felt a pang of jealousy seeing her with Virgil, seeming to be so familiar with him, but he pushed it down quickly.

He loved his husband. He did. 

And as he sank into Milo’s arms he realized just how much he’d missed him. They’d spoken that afternoon, but Milo had been in San Diego for so long now. Having him there, with the way he was feeling was nice. Mark dozed off again, his head resting against Milo’s shoulder, the gentle swaying of the other man’s cadence lulling him back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I took a really long break, lol. But I'm home now, and I have this new chapter~ and as you can see, this story is nearly done, with just one chapter left to go. 
> 
> Also, don't think I've forgotten kinktober... I know October is technically almost done, but with my vacation this month and catching up with school, I haven't really had much time to work on my writing. :( So here is my plan! I'm erring on the side of making a possibly unpopular decision here. (You'll see what I mean about that after I finish this story.) The rest of the year, after I finish Phantom, will be devoted to Kinktober, and I'll start the sequel to Phantom possibly in January. 
> 
> Meaning I will have been working on this series for a full year, because January of 2019 was when I started working on this. 
> 
> Damn. 
> 
> So anyways, remember that I have an inspo-journal now! You can go there if you want, I'm planning on adding some stuff in there about this series, collecting imagery for inspiration, and talking about my trip. Idk, it might be interesting, maybe? It's over [here](https://wickedwitchwc.tumblr.com).


	7. Poison

Mark had no idea when he fell asleep next, but he when he woke up he was laying out on an unexciting and not particularly comfortable hospital bed. Hooked up to various machines and IVs in a dark, secluded room, with only the sound of the steady beat of a nearby heart monitor. He thought he was alone… at first. A shifting in a corner of the room made things evident very quickly that he was not. 

"Why are you standing in the dark?" Mark asked, though his voice was rough and scratchy. 

Milo hesitated for a moment, before finally approaching the bed. He emerged from the darkness and out of the shadows moving to gently grip the handrail. It looked like something out of a movie, the villain making a typically dramatic reveal. Mark wondered what his deal was, as he leaned over the bed, looking over Mark carefully.

"How do you feel?" Milo asked, after a moment. 

"Tired." Mark said, after a moment. "Weak. Sort of like I'm breathing through a sieve." He tried to describe for his husband. He looked up to the other man, who seemed to be hovering over him, wanting to touch and yet, hesitant. Scared, perhaps? Mark gave him a curious look. "You good?" He asked Milo, and the look on the man's face turned almost bitter.

"Are you?" Milo nearly snapped. "The doctor said you were assaulted." He finally said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"Assaulted?" Mark asked, confused. "I wasn't…"

It all came back to him in a rush. He and Virg, on that rickety old hospital bed. The care that Virgil took with him, bodies writhing, that burning kiss. No wonder Milo was pissed. He half wondered how the heck he even knew. Did he sense something was up during their showdown at the beach? Mark hadn't thought any of this shit through. For some reason he thought he was going to have some time to approach Milo about what had happened but leave it to some overenthusiastic ER doctor to strip him down and reveal that particular secret. He had some real questions about the professionalism at this hospital.

"I'm just trying to figure out who it was. I can't hurt that dead vampire back at the beach, but by the elder gods if it was Virgil…" Milo went into a rant.

"Hey, lay off of Virgil." Mark said. Milo's eyes widened a bit at that. Mark was beginning to wish he had just kept his mouth shut.

"That fucking… that  _ child  _ has been a goddamn thorn in my side." Milo shot an angry look in Mark's direction. "I warned you about him."

"Milo!" Mark snapped at him. He was too tired to properly argue with the man, so he wanted to end this quickly. "Look, it wasn't even his fault, it was my dumb idea. We were captured and they kept going on and on about his virgin blood, how sweet it was going to be, and how they were going to kill him. Milo, they were going to kill him!" Mark stressed.

"So you what, offered to…" the realization hit Milo hard. "No, Mark, you don't fucking…"

"Well what did you want me to do, let him die?" Mark demanded, suddenly angry. His heart was pounding in his chest, racing so hard that the monitor near his bed went off, alerting the staff outside the private room. 

"Yes!" Milo sputtered. "That's not for you to do."

"Oh. Okay." Mark rolled his eyes. "Just let one of my best friends and biggest supporters die." Mark scoffed. "You know what's real funny about that? Every fucking time I felt alone or on my own, taking care of Jenn, you know who was there?" Mark demanded. "Virgil. Without fail. No matter what he had going on. If I was feeling afraid because you were too far away to protect us, Virgil would keep watch on the couch downstairs. If I ever had a question about what to do with Jenn, I could count on Virgil to give me advice. So for you to sit there and tell me I shouldn't do everything I can to save his life?" Mark growled. 

Milo shook his head. "He wasn't looking too poorly when we found the two of you." He said.

“He just ate, so I mean…” Mark sighed. "He's a vampire now, what do you want from me? Hasn’t he suffered enough?"

Both were quiet after that bitter exchange. It wasn't a good feeling, and Mark, so help him, he was feeling a little emotionally vulnerable right about then. He didn't want to be fighting with Milo right then, when all he really wanted was a tylenol, and maybe a hug.

"Look." Mark said after a moment. "This whole ordeal… has been a nightmare." He said. 

"Tell me about it." Milo agreed, looking to him.

"I don't want to fight with you." Mark said. "So this whole thing? It’s on me." He stressed to Milo. "Don't blame Virg. You can be mad at me if you want. But leave him be."

Milo sighed. "I'm… infuriated. " he admitted after a moment. "But I suppose I'm more so angry at myself." He admitted. Mark looked over to him, surprised. 

"Why?"

"Because I'm beginning to realize the effect that my absence has had on you." Milo admitted.

Mark raised his head up. "Yeah?" He asked. Milo nodded.

"If I'd been home tonight, or if I had gone with you, then none of this would have happened." Milo told him. 

Mark shrugged a little. "Maybe." 

"No, really." Milo said. "A group of vampires wouldn't have a chance against me. Especially not where we were." He said. 

"I have no idea where we were." Mark mentioned. 

"Close to my territory." Milo said. "Very close. None would have survived."

"Bitchin'." Mark said dryly, because he didn't particularly care for these homicidal tendencies his husband had, and wanted to discourage them as much as possible. "So what are we going to do about it?" Mark asked. 

Milo shrugged. "I could let the job go." Milo told him. "Find something closer to home."

"Is that something you really want to do?" Mark asked skeptically. 

"You're what's important." Milo told him firmly. Mark smiled a bit at that. It gave him a warm, fuzzy feeling whenever Milo said those things. Almost like everything was fine again, and maybe it could be?

"So are we done fighting? Is the…" Mark pointed out the door, where a group of nurses were peering at him from just outside. Milo realized pretty quickly what was bothering him, and he moved to shut the door. 

When he was done Mark spoke up again. "Is the medical staff here going to be… I don't know, nosy, about the supposed assault?" He asked.

Milo shook his head. "Doubt it. I suspect it would be a different story if you were pressing charges, but I assume you're not going there?"

"No, god no." Mark replied.

"Then… I suppose that's it." Milo relented. 

"Good." Mark said. "Then get over here and hold me while I'm still feeling fragile."

That finally drew a smile from Milo. Milo approached the bed, pushing the IV stand to the side so that he wouldn't catch Mark's various lines, and Mark slid over a bit so that Milo could join him. Before he really settled, Milo sank in over him and stole an intimate, serene kiss. Mark closed his eyes and lost himself in the sensation of warmth. 

~~

Damien closed the door behind him when he left Virgil’s room. As he was about to turn the lock, he heard a whimper. He paused, just a moment, before turning to his right and looking at the large grey wolf sitting beside him. Griever had basically been camped out at that spot since they’d brought Virgil to his home, to train his new abilities and recuperate from his ordeal.

With a sigh, he reached down and scratched the wolf’s head. “He’s fine.” He told the wolf insistently. Griever replied with a low, rumbling sort of grunt, which couldn’t have possibly sounded more skeptical if he’d tried. Damien couldn’t help feeling a little put out. When did the wolf ever show that kind of concern about him? “Well he’s gonna be!” He tried to defend. “Come on, don’t just lay here, moping. Let’s go see Carly.” 

As Damien made his way down the hall, he could hear the wolf very reluctantly follow, nails clicking against the wooden floor. Damien saw the light on and swung into the kitchen without first taking stock of its occupant, like an amatuer, probably a bit too leisurely.

"I got him to eat today." Damien announced, as he entered the room. Carly looked up for the briefest second, going back to what she was doing. He watched as she worked, painstakingly cutting up a tomato, before placing it into a bowl of pickle chips and mozzarella balls. Ah, so it had been that kind of a day. "Ah… He's doing a lot better." Damien told her, trying to smooth over her now obvious bad mood.

Carly didn't have anything to add to that, apparently. She picked up her bowl, stealing a pickle chip before she moved over to the table to eat. Damien frowned softly. Until then he had been hoping that she was done giving him the silent treatment. He was relieved when she finally deigned to speak up. 

"He was eating a little last night." Carly said, placing a tomato slice onto a pickle slice with one of the mozzarella balls and eating the whole thing together. Once she swallowed, she added on. "I hate that we have to lock him up like this though." 

"If we let him out though, he'll just go running straight back to Mark, and he just finally got over the black outs." Damien told her. “We need to keep Virgil with us for now.” 

"Did he?" Carly asked, though Damien thought that she was being conversational more than legitimately curious. Well of course, she didn't know Mark, other then the fact that her best friend had a crush on him. 

"You sound enthused." Damien replied dryly.

"Damien, I know you spend all your time with Virgil and have no idea, but I haven't slept more than a few hours in the two weeks since we found them." Carly told him abruptly. “I’m not about to get enthused about anything.” 

Damien's jaw dropped. "You're not-"

"I can't." Carly replied, dropping the piece of tomato in her hands to cover her face with her palms. "How can I?" She asked bitterly. "He needs me and there's nothing I can do for him."

"Oh." Damien said quietly. He watched as Carly wiped her cheeks with the palm of her hand. He didn't think she was crying, exactly. She was just emotional. But who wouldn't be, in her position?

"I miss my friend. And this is…" she frowned. "Such a radical change. He was always so sweet. Now he's… I'll walk in there and he'll be pacing the floor, or clawing at the walls. He's miserable. Desperate. I never wanted this for him." Carly whispered, as her body drooped with the weight of everything.

Damien nodded, unsure of what he could say that would console her. "It's a fate that befalls a lot of hunters, though."

"Well he didn't deserve it." Carly snapped, pushing back the bowl, suddenly uninterested in finishing her dinner. 

Damien watched her for a moment. "Are you done eating, then?" He asked her. 

"Why?" Carly asked, looking to the other man. Damien had a plan, but he wasn’t sure she’d be so willing to go along with it.

"I mean, I figure you probably have a lot of pent up aggression. You didn't get to kill the vampires who hurt Virgil, on account that they were already dead, so I’m thinking that what you need a release of some sort…" Damien began, and Carly glared at him. 

"If you're about to suggest what I think you are you can shove-"

"Massage?" Damien finished. Carly blinked, raising her chin up to give him a confused look. “Come on, I bet if you loosen up some of that tension, you’ll a lot better. We could make you some tea, and I saw that pine-scented massage oil up there that you have clearly never cracked open, so you know…”

“Really?” She asked. 

He wondered if maybe that suggestion was still a bit too far. A massage, with oil, required one to strip down, and she probably still would have seen that as an erotic act. Hell, he certainly did, but he knew he could be good. He was pretty good at controlling his hands. She was probably still thinking the worst, if her silence said anything. “I mean, we don’t have to…” Damien began to say, but Carly interrupted him.

“No, that… that sounds nice.” Carly told him. 

“Yeah.” Damien said, looking to her. “I mean, you should finish eating, first…” 

“I’m more tired then I am hungry.” Carly told him, pushing away from the table. Damien totally understood that.

He moved to put her bowl away for her, but she grabbed his hands before he could, grabbing him and dragging him in for a kiss. He was stunned, but only for a moment. He quickly recovered, moving in as her hands clasped gently behind his neck. She pulled back a bit after, lazily brushing her lips against his for a moment. “I appreciate everything you do.” She told him. “I know I don’t always say it. But I do.” 

“Carly it’s fine.” 

“It’s not.” Carly whispered. 

Damien smiled. “I know it whether you say it or not.” he told her. 

She smiled a little at that. Taking his hands once again, she began leading him towards the spare bedroom she’d taken as her own when this whole thing began. Damien decided, the hell with it, as he moved to swiftly pick her up, pulling her into a bridal carry. Carly startled a little, but settled quickly.

“Now you’re just showing off.” Carly told him. “I can walk.”

“Carly.” Damien chided very gently. “Just let me take care of you.” 

She finally relented after that. 

Damien carried her upstairs to her room. Damien warmed up the oil and gave Carly a massage that ended up being more clothed than not, and eventually, Carly fell asleep. But before she did, she tugged him down to the bed beside her and curled up tightly to him, burying her nose against his shoulder. It took him a while longer, but her heat against his body certainly helped to lull him, and finally he too fell asleep. 

It was probably because of their exhaustion that neither noticed when Virgil finally figured out that Damien had never set the lock, and was able to escape. He was very careful, as he crept into the dark hallways. Griever stirred at Virgil’s presence, happy to see the man, vampire or not. Virgil gave the wolf a few comforting pats, and the animal finally allowed him to pass, out of the house and into the night. 

Neither Damien nor Carly would notice until the next morning, when Damien’s cell phone came to life with a panicked ring. The door was ajar and their charge was missing.

~~

Mark was just beginning to feel like himself again after the whole ordeal. He’d only been in the hospital for a day, but it wasn’t the blood loss (and resulting transfusions) that took so much out of him. It was the black outs. Fortunately, Milo was there to help or he would have never managed. Whenever one hit Milo would carefully take him to the side and let him lay down and sleep it off. Milo was the one who took Jenn to her various activities for a while, which she didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, she seemed pretty happy to have her dad back, even if she didn’t quite understand what was up with the black outs. Mark thought they were maybe a little scary to her, and she just didn’t want to admit it. He could understand that. Hell, they were disorienting to him.

Finally the black outs eventually began to ebb off, and life was beginning to get back to normal. And, Milo was still there. He still had things he needed to do for the university, but he was doing it from  _ home _ . It was kind of nice, and it hadn’t been like that in a while. 

Mark was getting Jenn ready for bed, which was a difficult enough feat. She was a bouncy, hyper-active toddler who had little time for things like brushing her teeth, or taking a bath, but somehow he was able to get her through her routine and still managed to wrangle her into a sitting position so that he could braid her hair before bed. He’d kind of learned the hard way, now that her hair was long enough, that if he didn’t do something to it the night before, then trying to brush it out the next day was a nightmare. His mother had made the suggestion to braid her hair before bed, and it had become a part of their nightly ritual ever since. Usually he’d just hand her a book or his ipad to play with (yes, yes, he’d been scolded a few times for that one, mostly by Milo,) and they just got through it. 

He wasn’t surprised when Jenn picked out a children’s picture book themed around Sleepy Hollow to read. That was something he figured she from her dad, her penchant for scary fantasy themed stories. As she thumbed through the pages, Mark kind of absently played with her hair, running his thumb over the thin pink strands. Despite what Milo had told him, now that her hair was longer, it was getting a little more difficult to hide them amongst the dark drown strands. That hot pink color was visible for miles, he swore.It didn’t matter much right now, because she was just going to bed, but it was definitely going to be an issue in the future.

“Daddy?” 

“Sorry.” Mark apologized right away. He hadn’t been zoning out exactly, but he knew better than to let himself drift off like that around her. She turned around a bit, examining him over her shoulder. “I’m okay.” he assured her.

Jenn continued to stare. “I don’t know.” She said to him at length. “Sometimes you’re not.” She noted very astutely for a three year old. 

“Well right now… I’m fine.” He said to her. She still seemed a little skeptical, but she turned back to her book. 

“I don’t know.” She answered him after a moment, and for whatever reason, the way she said it just made him feel guilty. He wanted to be a good father to her, and for some reason, when she reacted like that it made him feel like he was lacking, somehow. That was something else his mother had taught him; you feel guilty over everything. In parenting you don’t have all the answers, and you tended to worry about every little thing.

Mark braided her hair and secured it with a little Elsa-themed hair-tie. (Again, not his choice.) That was another Milo purchase. Mark gently tapped Jenn's back and she turned around to look at him, book in hand. "Time for bed." He told her. "You have tumbling tomorrow."

"I can't go to tumbling." She told him.

He made a face at that. "Why not?" 

"Because my leotard is dirty." Jenn pouted a little. Mark tipped his head to the side for a moment. Milo was the one who got her to her class last, and he probably didn’t think about doing the laundry after. That was usually Mark. Which was somewhat infuriating, he knew the man had to have done his own laundry before they were hitched, so why Mark had to do everything now he didn’t know. But that meant the leotard in question was in the pile of laundry in the basket in the bathroom, and he really didn’t want to deal with that right now.

"Ah." Mark replied. "Well we'll wash it tomorrow, then. Your class isn't even until the afternoon."

Jenn gave him a very dissatisfied look. She carefully closed her book, setting it aside very neatly, aligned with the edge of the bed in a manner that would make Milo’s OCD proud as hell, and sliding off of the bed. Mark watched as she steadied herself, and began to trot away. “Jenn, where are you going?” 

“Gonna do it myself.” She muttered, and Mark realized she was heading towards the garage. 

“Jenn… baby, no-” Mark got up, moving to grab her little hand to stop her. “Hey, sweetheart, you can't go into the garage by yourself. We’ve talked about this." As she continued to frown at him, Mark finally sighed. "Okay. Alright. I have time, I'll do it before I go to bed." He said.

"Do you promise?" Jenn asked.

"Promise." Mark said. "Do I ever break my promises?" He asked her. 

"All the time." Jenn said. Leave it to a three year old to call him out. 

"Okay, but do I ever break my promises to you?" He asked her. 

The little girl shrugged, which he was going to take as a no. "Good." He said. "Go give your dad a kiss, it's time for bed." 

As he watched the little girl trot off he felt a pang in his chest that he couldn't quite place. He felt like she was going away somewhere, but that was ridiculous; she was just going to bed. He watched as she climbed up the stairs, knowing from that point on he could trust Milo to tuck her in, find her a story to read, and put her to bed. 

And that just left him with the laundry.

It was probably a waste of water, a big no no in California, but he figured he could just throw the leotard in the express cycle and be done with it. He didn't really get the attachment to that one particular leotard, but hey, if he could have a lucky shirt he guessed she could have a lucky leotard. He grabbed the whole laundry basket, though, just to take it outside. 

It was cool and dark outside, which in California meant it was a little brisk. Not too terrible and kind of refreshing, actually. He opened the garage door so could see what he was doing, and began to sort through the laundry. It didn't take him long to find Jenn's leotard. As he tugged it loose from between a particularly stubborn sweater and a pair of pants, Mark was abruptly grabbed. Mark made a strangled sound, trying to shout, but before he could get anything out, a hand covered his mouth. 

"Don't be afraid." Mark knew the voice instantly. He pushed the man's hand back and turned in his arms. 

"Virg?" He asked, scarcely believing the sight of the other man. He looked like he'd been through hell. His cheeks were pale and gaunt. His golden eyes seemed dull and weary. In fact, Virgil sort of looked like he hadn't slept since they were separated. And hell, Mark instantly felt that familiar pull, that tugging that drew him so hard to Virgil, that made him want to pull the other man closer, when he knew he should be pushing him away.

He'd only JUST gotten over the blackouts, and now they were going to come back with a vengeance. 

"I had to see you." Virgil said, voice low and broken. Fuck. Damien had told Mark, training Virgil to ignore those instincts was going to be hard but he had to go through it. It was the only way, and he warned him that they had to be separated during it or else they'd be brought back to square one. And naturally, here they were threatening to undo whatever work Damien had managed to get done with him. 

"Virgil…" Mark whispered his name. "We can't be here like this. This is going to fuck a lot of stuff up… What happened with Damien?” Mark asked, if only because he figured if Virgil was able to slip away from him, then something had to have happened. Virgil wordlessly crowded him up against the washing machine, effectively cornering him. Mark just hoped that Milo was sufficiently distracted, because the last thing he needed right now was his husband coming outside and seeing this.

“He’s fine..” Virgil told him. Which was a relief to Mark. He was worried that they’d been attacked, and Damien was lying unconscious somewhere. “Mark.” Virgil said softly. “I can’t do this… I can’t keep myself away from you. These past few weeks have been torture.”

“That’s why Damien was supposed to be with you.” Mark told him. “To help you get through it.” Mark would have been there too, just to be supportive, if Damien had allowed it. Thus far, he hadn’t. In fact, he’d warned Mark off pretty severely, insisting that it would ruin everything.

He wondered what had happened that Damien would let his guard down enough to let Virgil escape. It had to have been something serious.

“Damien’s distracted.” Virgil said, at length. “And I needed to see you.” He said again, giving Mark a squeeze.

“Well… you accomplished that.” Mark said, at length. Maybe this wasn’t as bad as he made it out to be. Aside from the initial scare, Virgil was being pretty calm. Maybe he could talk the other man into going back to Damien’s place? It seemed worth a shot. He placed his hands on Virgil’s chest, pressing him back a little, and placing a safe distance between them. “What’s the training like?” He asked. 

Virgil made sort a face. “Difficult.” He answered. “It’s been a lot to take in. It’s already been so much information. There’s a lot that you have to take in, to be able to control. And it’s hard to single out one stimulus, when there’s so many. Like…” Virgil glanced to the side. “The hole in the drywall over there that’s making a very distinct scratching sound.”

“What?” Mark asked, trying to see what Virgil’s referring to. Sure enough, behind a shelf with various tools on it, he could just make out a small hole. “Oh. Well hell.”

“Rats. Three of them, but they multiply quickly.” Virgil warned.

“Yeah, have to get that taken care of…” Mark murmured. 

“And on the second floor.” Virgil said, closing his eyes. “In Jenn’s room, I believe. Is he telling her a story?” Virgil questioned. “The words are sweet… ‘ _ You are loved, you are beautiful, you are eternal… _ ’”

“Oh.” Mark recognized instantly. “That’s the book Milo’s been reading to her before bed.  _ The Forgotten Sister _ .” He said.

“Milo…” Virgil said, the man narrowing his eyes, as his gaze seemed to bore through the house, straight to Jenn’s room where Mark’s family was currently residing. “Bastard. He’s so unappreciative of what he has. Never suspecting that someone could come and just-” 

“Virgil.” Mark shook his head. He wasn’t comfortable having this conversation with people outside of his relationship. At least not yet. “Don’t.” He requested softly.

Virgil took a moment to shake off the rant, before he continued. “That’s all just a symptom. It’s all been a lot to take in.” 

“I’m beginning to see that.” Mark told him worriedly. 

“The only time I feel even remotely centered is when I’m here with you.” Virgil told him. 

Mark sighed a little. It had sucked doing it in that old, abandoned hospital, shutting him down then. It was going to hurt even worse, doing that again to him. But he knew that he had to. Before this got to be something more. “Virgil. I can’t be, what you need me to be for you.” he said at length. “I’m… I’m married. I have a daughter. They’re both upstairs, right now. He’s probably tucking her into bed, and I’m…” Mark gestured at the laundry pile. “I have work to do.” He paused, locking eyes with Virgil. “And if he comes down here right now he’s gonna be pissed.” He said. “And I don’t want him to hurt you. So you need to go.” He told Virgil. 

Virgil gave him a look that wasn’t angry. At least, Mark could tell that he wasn’t angry with him. But Milo, waiting and unsuspecting upstairs? Milo he was fucking pissed at. “Don’t tell me,” Virgil said seriously. “That you feel nothing for me.” 

Mark looked into those burning eyes and… he couldn’t lie. “Of course I do…”

“Then come with me.” Virgil said, tugging at his hands again. “Please just give me a chance-”

“Virgil if I could do that I would but-” Mark shook his head. “I can’t. It’s too late for that. I have a family now. A child.” Mark said pointedly and pushed at him again. “I can’t risk losing her. I can’t.” He said, feeling himself tear up at the thought. He loved that little girl. She’d changed everything about his life. And he couldn’t put any part of her future at risk. Yeah, he’d come from a broken home and he turned out okay, but he wanted to try this thing with Milo for her. “Please. Just go back to Damien.” Mark insisted. “And when all of this is figured out, I-”

“ **_No_ ** .” 

Mark started a bit, at the tone. “Virg?” 

Virgil abruptly reached out, grabbing Mark by the arms and drawing him in. Pressed up against Virgil, chest to chest, it was difficult to fight off Virgil’s vampiric influence. “I am not giving you up.” 

“Virgil please…” Mark begged softly. “You can’t do this… I can’t-”

“I’m going to fight for you. And Milo can do what he likes.” Virgil replied dismissively. 

“No… Virgil! Don't-” But whatever Mark was trying to get out, it was abruptly silenced. Virgil crashed down, slamming their mouths together, holding him tightly. Immediately that all-too familiar haze took over. All common sense fled. His heart began to beat rapidly. Darkness began to claw at the edge of his vision, so Mark closed his eyes against it. All he felt was safety and warmth, locked in this dangerous embrace. Just as he gave in to the black out, he felt Virgil sweep him off of his feet, carrying him off.

Forty minutes later, Milo came looking for Mark.

All he found was his wedding ring sitting alone on the drier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep we're doing the cliffhanger thing guys. Please direct all complaints to my [tumblr](https://wickedwitchwc.tumblr.com) specifically dedicated to this series and things that inspired it lmao. 
> 
> Once again, my plan is to work on finishing up kinktober and then possibly around early next year, start on the sequel to this. PLEASE DON'T BE TOO MAD! D:

**Author's Note:**

> If you don't want Hurricane Year spoiled for you, please skip this note.
> 
> Mark has a daughter now and is being quietly possessed by a demon. He's still kicking around in Mark's body but he mostly doesn't interfere with his day to day routine. Mark formed friendships with a magician named Damien and an ineffectual vampire hunter named Virgil. Mark sloppily proposed to Milo and possibly killed his mother in the same month. In fact, Mark now has two and a half goddess kills under his belt, two of which were completely on accident, so he may actually be, through his complete ineptitude, the most dangerous character in this series.
> 
> Man that fic was weird.
> 
> Anyways, this fanfic also, in the tradition of these fics, has its own playlist, you can find it [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLe3LomlisX1KJ0TZ5hkALXH7FYC8X_MhM), and if you've paid attention to the other playlists, you've probably cottoned onto my bullshit by now. They're all spoilery, but only if you get the way my (probably deranged) mind works. And this playlist in particular feels different to me. It feels like Mark and Virgil having a conversation, and as the writer.... that's just fucking weird, lmao. 
> 
> So here's the breakdown on how this playlist works. Water songs are Milo. Fire songs are Mark. Kamelot tends to be Virgil, and Alice Cooper/Hollywood Vampires tends to be Damien. With the exceptions being, Dangerous is a Mark song in this, because of the somewhat desperate thing he's going to need to do to protect Virgil. And Killer is a Virgil song, because of the somewhat desperate thing he's going to need to do to protect Mark.
> 
> Me: loves these characters. Also Me: Struggle, boys.


End file.
